Another Path
by Miri Tiazan
Summary: Alanna goes to the convent, but how long will she stay there? Complete.
1. Troubles at the Convent

**Author's Note:  This is my take on what might've happened if Coram found out too soon and Alanna had to go to the convent.  This particular fic is assuming Alanna isn't afraid of her magic, she just feels normally about it, like she would about any other ability she has.  Just FYI, I figured that even if Alanna did end up going to the convent, she wouldn't be tame and boring and eventually decide to become a lady, so I wrote what might've happened.  She's not the kind to sit around and tamely accept her fate; nothing would stop her from getting out of the convent.  Yes, I am A/G, so she's not eventually going to end up with Jonathon.  Sorry, all you Jon fans, but she'd hate being queen.  What would she do with all of her combat skills?  She wouldn't want to deal with idiot bureaucrats.  If the first chapter seems a bit slow, don't worry; it'll speed up soon.  This first part is basically introducing the situation and laying down the framework for the rest of the story.  **

**Disclaimer:**  Tortall, Alanna, and anything else you recognize all belong to Tamora Pierce.  The plot is based on the Song of the Lioness books, but is mainly mine.

Chapter 1: Troubles at the Convent

_"That is my decision.  We need not discuss it," said the man at the desk.  He was already looking at a book.  His two children left the room, closing the door behind them._

_"He doesn't want us around," the boy muttered.  "He doesn't care what _we_ want."_

_"We _know_ that," was the girl's answer.  "He doesn't care about anything, except his books and scrolls."_

_The boy hit the wall.  "I don't _want_ to be a knight!  I want to be a great sorcerer!  I want to slay demons and walk with the gods-"_

_"D'you think _I_ want to be a lady?"  his sister asked.  " 'Walk slowly, Alanna,' " she said primly.  " 'Sit still, Alanna.  Shoulders back, Alanna.'  As if that's all I can do with myself!"  She paced the floor.  "There has to be another way!"_

~

Alanna of Trebond sighed.  _There has to be another way._  That conversation had been six months ago.  She and her twin brother Thom had rebelled against their father's ultimatum.  They had made plans to forge letters for themselves, one for "Alan" to become a page at the palace, one for Thom to go to the City of the Gods and live with the Daughters of the Goddess, who would start him in his magical education before he graduated to the Mithran cloisters.

The twins had made a deal with Maude, the woman who was supposed to accompany Alanna to the convent.  She would take Thom to the City of the Gods.  The problem rested with Coram, a Trebond manservant, the only person other than Maude who could tell the siblings apart.  Alanna had planned to tell him who she was once they were halfway to the capitol-she thought she would be able to persuade him to go along with the scheme.

It almost worked.  Unfortunately, Coram discovered the plot too soon, and Alanna was sent, in ignominious defeat, to the convent.

The girl sighed again, her violet eyes frustrated.  Nothing had turned out the way she had planned.  Now those same words were playing through her mind.  _There has to be another way._

The convent wasn't working out.  All the other girls either hated her or were terrified of her.  That didn't bother Alanna too much.  She wouldn't have wanted to be friends with any of those prissy wimps, anyway.  Her personal feelings aside, however, it did make for some awkward moments in her classes.

Classes.  Those were the embodiment of Alanna's worst nightmare.  Deportment.  How to walk, how to curtsy, how to sit properly at a banquet.  Exactly what one was supposed to say when presented to the king.  How to dance, how to flirt, how to use a fan, what was proper, what was mildly scandalous, what was completely unacceptable.  What gifts one could properly accept from which persons.  Then there were endless lessons in the management of the household staff in a fief, plus needlework lessons, music lessons, watercolor painting lessons...a myriad of completely useless things Alanna didn't want to know, and didn't pretend to care about.

Her attitude had already gotten her in trouble with the various sisters several times, and she had been sent to the First Sister so many times that when the red-haired girl approached the woman would raise her eyes to the heavens and ask the Goddess for help in dealing with her intransigent student.  Alanna's usual punishment was a restriction to bread and water for a week, or confinement to her quarters, or sometimes extra instruction in proper manners.  This usually led to additional punishments, simply because Alanna skipped her extra classes to sneak out of the convent and take a ride in the woods.

At the moment, Alanna had been locked in her room for the fifth time, as the First Sister didn't know what else to do with her.  The ten-year-old girl stared sullenly into the mirror above her dressing table.

Her reflection stared back at her, identical purple eyes with the same expression of frustration and discontent, elbows leaning on the dressing table, chin propped on hands.  In the mirror, flame-colored hair fell softly down just past the girl's shoulders.

"I can't go on like this," Alanna finally said to herself.  "If I have to stay here for another seven or eight years I'll go mad.  Stark, staring crazy.  But where could I go, if I ran away?  There's no way I could go back to Trebond... Father would just send me back to the convent.  I'd be doomed."  She was silent for a minute, eyes no longer resentful but thoughtful.

"I could go to the Shang, I suppose," she murmured doubtfully.  "But would they accept me?  For one thing, I'm too old.  For another, I'm noble, and Gifted.  I think all Shang are commoners, and I _know_ they don't take people with magic.  And what if they didn't accept me?  Where would I go then?  No, I can't go to them.  What if I went to Corus?  Thom might be able to help me, and I could get a job, perhaps as a helper in the stables of some rich merchant or nobleman.  Yes, that might work."  Alanna considered this for a moment, then nodded her head decisively.  "That's the best plan.  Now all I have to do is do it."


	2. A Plan

**Author's Note:  The second chapter is up.  Hurray!  A word of warning: don't expect updates this quickly too often, because I can't guarantee that they will be very regular.  I can say that I'll probably update mostly on weekends, at least until school is out.  Which, for me, is not for an entire TWO WEEKS!  Isn't that completely unfair?  We don't get out until the 14!  Evil school.  Evilness.  Anyway, I'm sorry this chapter is so short.  This was just the best place to stop.  A note to my few reviewers:  THANK YOU!  YOU ARE THE BEST!  Thank you to Neona, opal-dragon, and Rebecca.  A special thanks to Neona for giving me that tip.  I hope it works this time.  To those who haven't yet reviewed, please, do so!  Any comments, questions, suggestions/constructive criticism, random remarks, or even flames, would be pored over and committed to memory.  I live on reviews.  Please, please, review!**

Chapter 2: A Plan

When she was let out of her room, Alanna was amazingly good.  She was assiduous in applying herself to her lessons.  She actually tried to learn how to curtsy, she wasn't rude or impertinent, she didn't make cutting comments about the other girls.  The First Sister observed Alanna's progress and decided that a hard lesson had stuck at last: the Trebond girl was finally behaving herself.  All of the other sisters breathed a sigh of relief.

What the sisters didn't know was that Alanna was secretly making plans for her escape.  She plotted the best route to get to Corus, she secretly stocked up food and supplies, she thought over which horse she would take with her.  She eventually decided to bring one of the convent's best horses...a spirited mare Alanna called Silvermoon.  She was a pretty dapple gray, with dark stockings, mane, and tail.

Alanna had planned to leave three weeks from the time of her release.  Now the date was only a few short days away.  Her hiding place in the hayloft of the convent stables was rapidly filling with packs.  Provisions, cooking gear, a couple of changes of clothes, a bedroll, canteen, and an extra quiver of arrows filled her saddlebags.

After much thought, Alanna had decided to travel relatively light, weapon-wise.  It wouldn't do to be armed to the teeth, and she only knew how to use a limited number of weapons.  She certainly couldn't brandish a sword or an axe: she would just hope she wouldn't have to defend herself in heavy combat.  All she was bringing was a few daggers and her bow.  That was going to have to be enough.


	3. The Escape

**Author's Note: Here's Chapter 3.  Aren't we all thrilled.  Well, I am, anyway, and that's all that really matters, isn't it?  Anyway, I'm rambling again.  As usual.  But I do really have something relevant to say, I promise.  To all of those who have reviewed my story: THANK YOU!  YOU RULE!  To everyone who hasn't reviewed yet, PLEASE DO SO!  Anything you may have to say will be pored over, committed to memory, displayed to all who will pay attention, and  worshipped on my personal altar of reviews.  Please, REVIEW!  Please!  Even if you flame!  A few notes to my reviewers:**

ThePenMage:  Since I'm M'cha?  You must really enjoy reading my reviews then.  Thanks for reviewing mine.  And hey, this is different from the run-of-the-mill convent stories, right?  And no, I have no problems with you calling me M'cha.  I actually like that name better, but when I tried to register as M'cha it didn't work, so I switched to Araem.  I cannot see why you would think of me as a guy.  Does Araem sound masculine?  Well, I suppose I'm no judge, as I obviously know I'm a girl.  Of course, perhaps you're pronouncing it Arram.  My own personal pronunciation is a-RAY-em.  I think that sounds better than a-RAYM or AIR-um.  The NINETEENTH???  That's TERRIBLE.  I am so, so sorry.  Good luck on your finals, though.

Temptress: Thanks.  I appreciate the feedback.  If no one reviews, then I feel like no one cares about my story, so then I feel to depressed to update promptly.  Let that be a lesson to you!

Wish on a Unicorn: Thanks for all your encouragement.  It is really appreciated.

QueenoftheRogue: Thanks for your compliment on Alanna's character.  I myself, obviously, thought that Alanna would despise being in a convent.  And she had already concocted one scheme to escape a lady's fate; what's to stop her from constructing another?  On the subject of school, I too loathe it with a passion.  It is my greatest nemesis.  And all of my teachers keep assigning me homework, which takes away from the time I can spend reading and writing.  Yes, set the monkeys loose!  The evil school administrators deserve it.  May they be whacked by a thousand angry puce gremlins shouting English cuss-words with a Russian accent and submerged in the diseased excretion of the gigantic blue-footed booby god!  How dare they not release us from purgatory until the 14th!  Evil, they are.

Opal-dragon: No danger of an A/J connection.  He's so insufferably full of himself.  Thanks for the compliment on my vocab; I pride myself on my knowledge of interesting words.  And since I've updated mine, could you perhaps update yours?  Both of them?

Neona: Check your reviews for Shadows of Thieves for HTML tips.  I have mastered the art of italics.  As for my vocab, I love big words.  They are so endlessly useful, especially in arguments.  If you use big words, they don't know what you're talking about, and they get all confused and flustered.  Of course, all the people I end up having debates with are usually well-read enough that they do know what I'm talking about.  Usually because they are members of my family (ahem, my brother).

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Tamora Pierce.  All else is MINE, and if you steal it, I will sic my friend Satan on you.  She and her cousin Cerberus love devising evil tortures for people.  You will be no exception.**

Chapter 3: The Escape

Alanna saddled up in the faint light of false dawn, moving stealthily so as not to wake the grooms.  Today was the day.  She was leaving.

She led the mare over to the mounting block and swung into the saddle.  Softly nudging her mount into a walk, Alanna moved toward the gates of the convent, hooves ringing sharply on the cobblestones in the hush of the morning.

She passed through the gates and turned back for one last look at the convent that had imprisoned her for the past six months.  She would not be coming back.

The dull thud of hooves receding into the distance was the only thing that indicated that Alanna of Trebond was on her way.

                                                                                                                          ~

After a long day of travel Alanna made camp by a river alongside the main road.  She was already saddle-sore after a long day of riding, and she groaned as she gingerly lowered herself to the ground.

"I knew I was out of condition, but I didn't think it was this bad," Alanna announced to no one in particular.  A few feet away, Silvermoon neighed; maliciously, Alanna fancied.  "All very well for you to laugh, but you're not the one who can barely sit down."  Another whinnying snort.  Alanna gave up trying to reason with her mare.

"Well, all I want to do right now is sleep.  I have a good four or five days left before I reach Trebond.  That's going to be even worse, as I'll have to leave the road and take a detour to avoid meeting anyone who might recognize me.  After that, it should be clear skies to Corus."

About to lower her head to the ground, Alanna suddenly remembered that she had yet to set the warding-spells around her campsite.  With a groan she heaved her aching body up again.

"I keep forgetting…there's no one around to set the wards for me, or remind me to do them, at the very least.  I'm on my own this time."

With another groan of complaint, she walked three times around her camp, chanting a simple protection spell as she went.  When she finished her last circuit, she walked back to her bedroll and flopped down onto it with a sigh of relief.  In an instant, she was fast asleep.

                                                                                                                          ~

Four days later, Alanna reigned in and stared at the buildings nearby.  They were the outlying farms of Fief Trebond.  Trebond.  Her home.

She was going to have to leave the road to avoid being recognized by any the townsfolk.  She couldn't risk being caught now, when she was so close to her goal.  Once she passed Trebond, it was only five days to Corus, her destination.

The girl pressed her heels into the mare's sides and turned into the forest.

                                                                                                                          ~

Silvermoon cantered smoothly through the forest, trees and bushes blurring in Alanna's vision.  She had finally passed the dangerous area.  There was almost no chance that anyone would recognize her between here and the capitol.  About to turn toward the road, Alanna heard the jangle of harnesses, the thud of hoof beats, and a low grumble of men's voices.

The girl stopped quickly and dismounted. Leading Silvermoon, she cautiously inched forward through the vegetation.  When she could hear horses snorting carelessly, she tied her mare's reins to a tree and crept forward on her hands and knees.  When she had almost reached the source of the disturbance, she carefully parted the bushes and peered cautiously out.

A boot heel thudded into the dirt scant inches from her face.  She stifled a gasp and watched the heel's owner move towards the horses tethered nearby.  As he moved farther away, she could see the rest of his body.  He was wearing dirty riding leathers and an open shirt that looked as if it had not been washed for weeks.  The smell that wafted through the air corroborated her theory.  Alanna held her nose.

As her gaze moved past him, she had to stifle another gasp.  There were more men, many more, all dressed similar to the first.  As she watched, a few men opened up a pack and began to argue over the distribution of the contents.  Catching a glimpse of the disputed items, her jaw dropped.  Gold and precious stones flashed in the late afternoon sun.  These men were bandits.

Alanna crept out of the undergrowth and moved back to Silvermoon's side.

"Bandits," she whispered in astonishment and a little fear.  "What am I going to do?"  She leaned against a tree and slid slowly down its trunk, landing gently in the dirt.  "What can I do?" she murmured again.  "Even if I had enough weapons too defend myself, I couldn't possibly take on these men.  There's too many of them."  She bit her lip.  "I'm just going to have to avoid them.  If only I could get back to the road."  She laughed a little hysterically.  "They're blocking the way to the road, that's not an option.  I can't stay here—they could find me.  I'll just have to go on and hope I can outdistance them."

Decision made, she mounted up again and set off on her way, more than a little shaken and not at all sure of herself.

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I just thought of something. If you liked my fic, then you should really read opal-dragon's two Alanna stories.  They are really good, and it's opal-dragon that gave me the idea that Alanna could actually be interesting, even if she ended up going to the convent.  So, everybody get out there and READ!  Knowledge is power, people.  And, while I've still got your attention, REVIEW!


	4. The Storm

**Author's Note:  Mwahahahahahaha!  It's Chapter Four!  I know you've all been waiting for this (or you better have been), and now here it is!  On the site!  Yay!  And no, there is no reason for that evil laugh.  I just felt like typing it.  I have been flabbergasted by the amount of reviews I have received for only three chapters!  That's a record for me!  Ha, if you'd realized this was my first fic, you'd realize that everything about this story is a record.  But if you hadn't, then I got you there, didn't I?  Didn't I?  Oh, come on, admit it.  I did.  Anyway, I do LOVE all of the responses I've been getting.  All the encouragement is helping me get these updates up faster.  The more reviews, the quicker it'll get, I believe.  And to everyone who's reviewed, I have one big generic THANK YOU!  And now for my personal responses:**

Neasa:  Yay!  Opal-dragon gave me good publicity!  Thank you to you to reviewing!

Redmountain: I'm flattered.  And as you see, this is your update.  I'm glad you're happy.

Mystere-ThePenMage: I'm glad we've got the name thing cleared up.  And you get out at 12:30?  I hate you.  You and all of the eighth graders at my school who get out two days before us.  Not fair!  They get to graduate.  How rude of them.  As for being a chatterbox, that's okay.  As you can see, I never shut up either.

QueenoftheRogue: I'm not even going to try to beat that one.  That is a piece of work.  A thing of beauty.  A result of a repressed genius.  A wonderful…  But now you probably want me to shut up, so I will.

Kalika: As you can see, I have posted more.  Enjoy!

Neona: I'm sorry the italics aren't working for you.  Computers are evil.  I don't understand them at all.  My friend does, though.  She even knows how to use Microsoft Access, which is the most complicated program on the face of the earth.  I am in awe of her skills.

Temptress:  I'm glad you like our stories.  I do too.  (Sorry, a bit of self-ego-inflation.  I couldn't resist.)

Lythysfa:  Your name is so incredibly hard to spell!  Whatever possessed you?  I had to check back several times, and I am a spelling freak.  As for the stable boy/thief suggestion, I appreciate it, but it's going to be different.  And I'm afraid I kind of got this idea from your sister.  I bet you'll figure out where I'm going with this after this chapter.  I'm sorry the computer wouldn't let you review Chapter 3.  By the way, dissing your sister is not nice.  You should be friends, and NO PINCHING, YOU TWO!  Bad peoples!  Bad!  I don't dis my sister.  ::eyeshifts::  Anyway, I hope this chapter meets with your approval.

Opal-dragon: I'm in your George club now.  At least, I think I am.  You have updated the roster yet, so hopefully I will be on the next list.  And I wouldn't want to be an officer, thank you.  I'm way too much of a slacker.  That goes in with my lack of a life.  ::reads the post-script and realizes what it says::  Ah!  No guns!  ::cowers in the corner, and then remembers that she can't be shot over the internet—or can she?::  Hah, you thought I was scared, didn't you?  BUT I WASN'T!  IT WAS ALL AN ACT!  MWAHAHAHAHAHA!  Okay, I'll shut up now.  And I've updated my story, so you update yours!  Both of them!

**Aha, I forgot to say something—a couple of things actually.  One: You should read opal-dragon's fics.  They're really good.  Two:  Someone has me on their favorites list!  Yay!  Only problem: I don't know who it is.  The site only tells me that someone has me on theirs, it doesn't say who.  Please, whoever you are, please say so that I may thank you!  And now, I'll be quiet and let you read the story!**

Chapter 4: The Storm

Alanna glanced up at the sky, and then took a double take and swore.  Storm clouds were rapidly making their way across the darkening sky.  The girl shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around her—the already chilly air was getting colder and the wind was picking up, nipping at any exposed skin and cutting through any garments to chill anyone unfortunate enough to be outside to the bone.  As if to emphasize Alanna's growing discomfort, thunder rumbled menacingly in the distance.

All of a sudden the storm was upon them.  The girl gasped as she was deluged with icy cold water, and shivered convulsively in her body's vain attempt to get warm.  The world had flashed from a dusky twilight to utter darkness, which, combined with the driving rain, restricted visibility to a few feet in front of Silvermoon's hooves.  The mare slowed to a walk, concentrating on picking her footing in the sudden quagmire the rain created.

"It's okay, girl," the copper-haired rider told her mare.  "Just do your best.  I think there's a village somewhere near her; we can at least get some shelter in someone else's barn, if there's no inn.  Just keep going."

Alanna was by no means as optimistic as she sounded.  Once they had passed the bandits, she hadn't been able to find her way back to the road.  At the moment, it was merely guesswork, and that in unfamiliar territory.  The girl laughed sardonically at herself.  She was keeping up a brave front for a horse!  _Just goes to show,_ Alanna thought with derisive amusement.

"Well, Silvermoon, I think we're going to have to keep moving until we find shelter."  For lack of other company, the girl had taken to talking to the horse.  "We may have to go all night.  I'm sorry to do this to you; we'll keep a slow pace and take lots of breaks tomorrow."

Alanna's prediction turned out correct.  By dawn the next day, the rain hadn't dissipated at all, beating down on horse and rider brutally.  As far as the girl knew, they were no closer to shelter than before.  In fact, as far as Alanna knew, they were miles from anywhere.  Between the bandits and the storm, the girl was most marvelously lost.

"Mithros knows where we are now, Silvermoon.  I don't recognize anything from the maps.  In fact, this definitely doesn't look like anything near Corus.  As far as I know, we could be in the Great Southern Desert!"  Thinking about this, Alanna gave a nervous laugh.  She was afraid her random remark might not be too far from the truth.

The landscape certainly didn't look anything like the forests Alanna knew surrounded the capital.  In fact, it almost looked like…desert.  Rather saturated, recently rained on desert, but desert nonetheless.  The girl swung out of the saddle and knelt on the ground, feeling the earth.

It was wet, and decidedly more sandy than not.  Alanna sighed.

"As I said before, Silvermoon, we are most marvelously lost.  We must be in the desert.  There's no other place it could be.  The problem is how we get out of it." 

She looked at the clear hoof marks in the wet sand behind them.  Instead of a straight line, they were meandered all over the place.  There was no way to tell which direction Alanna had originally come from.  The rain had stopped, so Alanna looked up at the sun for direction.  Unfortunately, it was almost directly overhead by now.

Squinting up at the bright desert sun, Alanna thought it was a little more over to one side.  She guessed it was the eastern side of noon.  Crossing her fingers, she headed towards what she thought was northwest.

Four hours later, Alanna was reasonably certain that she had taken the complete wrong direction.  As far as she could tell, they were deeper into the desert than before.

"Great, just great," Alanna groused to Silvermoon.  "I can't even get to Corus without screwing up.  No wonder Coram found out too soon.  I've just got abysmal luck."  She glared at the desert landscape.  "Now I'll probably die of thirst.  I'm not prepared for a desert trek.  I have next to nothing to eat and drink.  It can't possibly get worse."

A few sweaty hours later, Alanna thought she saw something faintly green in the distance.  She squinted through the perspiration in her eyes and the heat waves rising from the sand, and was certain she had spotted a clump of greenery.  An oasis!  Revitalized by the promise of rest and refreshment, she spurred Silvermoon on.  The tired mare moved faster, sensing by her mistress' excitement that she would have water and some vegetation to graze on soon.

When the pair had almost reached the oasis, Silvermoon shied in fear.  Alanna was jolted out of her thoughts and immediately gasped.  Through the vegetation, the girl could spot a caravan of dirty-looking ruffians.  They could be nothing other than the dreaded hillmen, the vicious bandits of the desert.  Even the war-like Bazhir were cautious of their cruelty.  A young girl like Alanna wouldn't stand a chance.

She began to slowly turn her mare away from the oasis, hoping desperately she they wouldn't catch a glimpse of her.  After a few moments, when no shouts rang out, she thought she might be safe.  But once again, her luck failed her.

A lookout must have spotted her, because suddenly the desert rang with the hillmen's war cry.  Caution thrown to the winds, Alanna kicked Silvermoon into a gallop, but the tired horse couldn't sustain her speed for long.  The girl reined in and turned to face the hillmen, pulling out her bow.

She grabbed an arrow from her quiver and nocked it on her bow, ready to let it fly once her attackers were in range.  She sighted and hit a man in the throat; he fell with a gurgle.  The others slackened their speed and milled about uncertainly.  Their easy prey seemed to be more of a challenge now.

Alanna took advantage of their confusion and shot another arrow, knocking another man out of his saddle.  The horse reared in a panic and galloped off into the oasis.

The hillmen charged, and Alanna frantically kept shooting, praying to the Goddess that she would survive this.  Her enemies were almost upon her, so she turned and galloped away again, buying some time.  Silvermoon tried faithfully to keep going, but eventually she couldn't go on.  Alanna turned her mount to face the hillmen not far behind.  She was out of arrows.  She couldn't run any more.  All she had left was her Gift.

Alanna didn't know any combat magic, but she did know how to call fire, so she called it.  She summoned fire until a wall of flames rose between her and the hillmen.  Faced by a blazing inferno, her attackers turned and fled.  Alanna quenched the fire and then slumped forward in a faint onto Silvermoon's sweaty neck.

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That's the chapter, peoples.  I hope you liked it.  And now, please direct your attention to the lower left hand corner of the screen.  There, you should see a button labeled REVIEW!  Press it, and SAY SOMETHING!  ANYTHING!  EVEN FLAMES, I WOULD WELCOME FLAMES!  And I would really like constructive criticism.  I want to improve my writing, and if you have suggestions, it would help me a lot.


	5. The Bazhir

**_This chapter has been revised and re-uploaded!  Nothing really significant changed, except that I changed the part about how the tribe is accepting Alanna as one of them, mainly because ThePenMage was nit-picking.  ThePenMage:  You nit-picker, you!  If you're not happy now, I'm going to was my hands of you.  So you better be happy.  If you're not, I'll be VERY unhappy with you and your nitpicking._**

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait, but it couldn't be helped.  The eccentricities of technology, people.  Can't live with them, can't live without them.  Here's the chapter everyone's been waiting for.  Ha ha, those of you who were mad that my last update was only an author's note.  For those of you who didn't see the last update, it was just a note which I replaced with this beautiful chapter.  Actually, that last update was basically a cheap way to get my story up on the first page again and thus glean more readers and reviews.  But it worked, didn't it?  You may not have liked it, but it worked.  I have...  ::goes to count reviews:: 40 reviews!  I'm not updating again after this until I get…  ::does some more mental math, then gives up and reaches for a calculator::  50 reviews!  ::looks defensively around::  So what if I can't add anymore!  It's the public school system, I tell you!  It's all their fault!  And I'm not stupid.  I can do trigonometry.  I just can't do addition.  Except I despise trigonometry.  It's not math, it's just using a calculator.  And I never remember what the stupid Greek symbols are called.   But you don't care about my math skills, do you?  Of course not.  Hmmm, there was something else I wanted to say.  Oh yeah.  Someone else put me on their favorites list!  Thank you, Dunfalathwen!  Did I spell that right?  I hope so.  Thank you to everyone who reviewed.  Particular notes are at the bottom, because of a recent reviewer complaint.  And oh yes.  REVIEW!  REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!**

**Disclaimer**: I keep forgetting to do these.  See the first chapter, and I think the third chapter too.  Anyway, you know it's not mine, so don't get mad if I forget to do them again.

Chapter 5: The Bazhir

The copper-haired girl stirred on the mat.  The men talking softly around her turned their attention to the slumbering stranger.

Purple eyes opened sleepily and blinked.  The girl stretched, still waking up.  Bazhir eyes watched her, unblinking.  The girl awakened to find three men gazing down at her.

"Where—where am I?  Who are you?"

"You are with the tribe of the Sunset Dragon," the tallest of the three said.  "I am the headman, Halef Seif." He indicated the green-robed man next to him.  "This is the tribe's shaman, Umar Komm.  **(A/N: My Sunset Dragon is a kind of mix of the Bloody Hawk and the Sunset Dragon, the tribe Umar Komm came from when he came to the school of shamans in Woman Who Rides Like A Man.)**  Why do you trespass on Bazhir land?"  Alanna gulped.

"I—I didn't know I was trespassing.  I didn't mean to be here.  I got lost, in the storm, and I couldn't find my way out of the desert."  She stopped, waiting for their response.  The headman spoke up again.

"How did you meet with the hillmen?"

"I was lost, and I saw an oasis.  I rode toward it, and I was almost there when I realized there was a group of hillmen resting there.  I tried to get away, but they saw me, so I ran."  Alanna looked for a reaction from her listeners, and saw only impassive faces, so motionless they could have been carved from stone.  She went on, shaking inside, but outwardly calm.  "I stopped and pulled out my bow, but I ran out of arrows, and Silvermoon couldn't run anymore, so I called fire with my Gift.  They ran."  She hesitated.  "I don't really remember anything after that.  I think I must've blacked out."  The third man looked for permission to speak from Halef Seif, and at his nod, addressed Alanna.

"I saw you call flames from the heavens to overcome the hillmen.  When they were gone, you fell forward onto your mare's neck.  I took you and the horse to the headman and told him what I had seen.  He summoned the shaman, and I brought you here."  Silence fell over the little group as Alanna absorbed the information.

"Have you anywhere to go from here?" inquired the headman.  Alanna shook her head.

"Not really, sir," Alanna replied respectfully.  "I had planned to go to Corus and find work there, but I could as easily remain here."

"Well, little warrior, you managed to defeat an entire band of hillmen by yourself," said the green-robed shaman.  "That argues for a very powerful Gift, and considerable fighting skills.  I hardly think the tribe will feel it necessary to hold a trial-by-combat after you successfully fought off a full band of hillmen alone.  

"With your permission," he nodded toward the headman, "and the tribe's approval, I would like to take this girl on as an apprentice."  He turned to Alanna.  "Would that be agreeable to you?"  Alanna nodded.

"Certainly, sir.  I have nothing I will miss, except perhaps my brother, but I would not be with him anyway."

The headman nodded.  "Tonight we will present you to the tribe, and hopefully, make you one of us."

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Sorry if that felt cliffhangery.  I can't seem to help writing cliffhangers.  If that bugs you, I'm sorry.  I know it bugs me when I have to read them, but hey, what can I say?  Okay, here's all my individual responses!

ThePenMage: Nitpicker.  I was close enough.  ::tries to glare, then cracks up::  Okay, we'll ignore that for now.  As for your idea, that is GOOD.  That is exactly the kind of thing I want from people.  I may not change the uploaded version, because that tends to annoy people, but I will probably add in some in my normal draft, and I will make sure to check on that in my later chapters.  Your school sounds really funky.  My school is cool too.  Well, actually, it's not, really, but we do have good fries.  It tastes like you're eating at McDonalds.  Except for that one day that they burned the fries.  The whole school reeked, and the cafeteria was all smoky.  It was awful.  And here is my real update.  Are you happy?  And ha ha, I made you wait until Friday.  (Well, actually, it's a bit later than the Friday I meant to update, but you know.)  I bet you're mad.  Tough bananas.  I'm mean.  I'm sorry about your finals.  They suck.  I don't have any (thank god) except in math, but I already bombed that one, so I don't have to worry about it.  I got a 74%.  It was gruesome.  Good luck on yours.  Oh but wait, by the time you'll read this, you'll have already taken them.  Well, I hope you did well on them, at least.

Temptress: Yay!  Everyone appreciates my vocabulary.  I feel so smart.  If you think of any questions, advice, etc., be sure to tell me.

Hoppuschick:  I know you don't like these long thank-yous, but I love doing it.  I think it's a good way to reward all my faithful reviewers.  : ) And as for the length of my chapters, I'm afraid that I don't plan on making them long, short, or whatever.  They just happen that way.  But thanks for the compliment, anyway.  I hope this chapter met with your approval.

Opal-dragon:  Oh, my mistake.  Well, no kicking, biting, slapping, hair-pulling, scratching, punching, etc., etc., etc.  I feel so silly yelling at someone older than me.  Both of you are older than me.  How funny.  I guess I must just be more intellectually mature.  ::smiles superior smile, and then ducks the vindictive mudball thrown by enraged sisters::  Quagmire.  That is a good word, but I don't think it's the coolest.  I rather like onomatopoeia.  Now THAT is a cool word.  And I know how to spell it, too.

Lythysfa/Rebecca: I understand your inability to review thanks to your "dread machine," and I know that you would have reviewed if you had been able to.  I have an idea.  Once your sister finishes her review, write yours on the same one, and then submit it.  That way I get both your comments.  Efficient, n'est pas?

Neona:  Thanks for the compliments.  And why don't you update YOUR story.  That would make M'cha happy.  I hope you liked my update.

~*~ : Yes, you are number 30.  Special you.  You are a multiple of ten.  How exciting.  Yes, I know those get repetitive.  This is why I did something different.  If you like different Alanna fics, read opal-dragon's.  Hers are better than mine, plot-wise.

Dunfalathwen:  I hope this story answers your wonderings.  (Can you say that?  Wonderings?  Probably not.  Oh well.  My writing teacher will never know.)

ShinigamiKarui:  Sorry about the cliffhangers.  It just happens.  It's not me, it's the plot.  It makes me stop there.  It won't let me keep writing.

Jip:  You don't have to rub it in!  Your getting-out-of-school-on-6/7 thing, I meant.  I can't help it that I get out a whole week later than you.  Yes, Alanna has a lot of problems, but her life gets better soon.  At least, I think it does.  It might get worse, but that shouldn't happen unless the plot runs away with me.

Lori: I think I answered your question.

Wildmagic:  I never thought about her being kidnapped, but I'm not sure that would be cool.  I mean, she'd be made a slave or something, and maybe raped, and that would be really sad.  I would feel bad about doing that to her.  Because the hillmen aren't nice people.  They wouldn't care about hurting her.  The Bazhir have an honor system, of a sort.  And for the sake of my plotline, we'll just assume that that particular group of hillmen didn't happen to have a mage with them.

Music Queen:  Thanks for the encouragement.  I WAS going to update my story a while ago, but then FF.Net had their technical difficulties, so you've all had to wait a long while.

Angel of the Storms:  Hey, don't say that about your stories.  They're GOOD!  Don't dis yourself.  Bragging is infinitely preferable.

Selenmoon: I'm glad you liked it, and I hope you liked this chapter too.

**All right people.  Now is the time to press the "Click here to submit review" button.  (There you go, ThePenMage.  Happy?)  So go click it and write!  Constructive criticism would be appreciated.**


	6. Thom

**THIS PARAGRAPH IS THE IMPORTANT THING YOU NEED TO READ!  SO READ IT!  There is nothing different about this chapter than from before, except for this author's note.  For some strange inexplicable reason, no reviews have shown up from this chapter, although it's been up for two days.  That kind of puzzles me.  You guys don't all hate me that much, do you?  Please tell me that the lack of reviews is the result of some technical glitch, because although I know my story is pretty awful, I didn't think it was so bad that no one would even bother reviewing this chapter.  So if there are people out there reading this who did review, I don't know what you said to me, so I would appreciate it if you would say it again.  RETURNING TO NORMAL PROCEEDINGS…**

**Author's Note: Yay, I'm back from camp!  I had a great time, but I really missed all of you wonderful people here at FF.Net.  (That, and American junk food.  The drawback of going to German camp is that they feed you German food, and they take away all of your American candy.  Toblerones are good, but there ain't nothing like a Twix bar.)  If you haven't read the reviews, refer to that, where I explain where I've been for the last two weeks.**

**For everyone who did manage to review, thank you.  For everyone else, I know you would have.  You were simply prevented by the evil pixie that sneaks in and makes things not work at FF.Net.  For future reference, I'm also going to start to reply only to those reviewers who I think need feedback, be it in answer to a question, or a reply to a certain interesting comment, et cetera.  If I don't reply to your specific review in some chapters, I probably will in others.**

**Also, I have an exciting new thing.  YOU GUYS GET TO HELP ME DECIDE THE ENDING!  I don't know exactly how I want to end it, so I'm going to let you give me suggestions for the eventual destiny of Alanna.  The one I was originally going to use was to get her to become a page at the palace.  If you like that idea, say so, if you have another idea, please tell me.  Nothing too specific, though, because I wouldn't want to spoil it for people.**

Chapter 6: Thom

Thom of Trebond stared miserably out the window at the rainy landscape.  It was more than six months since he'd first become a page at the palace.  He hated it.

Sure, he had friends.  Gareth of Naxen, Alex of Tirragen, Raoul of Goldenlake, even Prince Jonathon, the heir to the throne.

No, it wasn't his social life.  It was his classes.  He did all right in academics, but the fighting arts were another story.  Tilting, staff-fighting, archery, even horseback riding left him sore, aching, and thoroughly exhausted.  By the time all of his classes were done, he was ready to drop, and then he still had to serve at meals.

He never had enough time to finish his homework, he never had enough sleep, he got punishment work nearly every day from one or another of his arms masters.  In short, his life was hell.

Thom longed for the peace and relaxation he would have had at the Mithran cloisters or the convent.  If only the plan had worked.  He would have been learning sorcery like he had dreamed of, and Alanna would have been happily whacking things, just as she had always wanted to.  It just wasn't fair.

Lost in this gloomy train of thought, he almost didn't notice the knock on his door.  It was Timon, Duke Gareth's personal servant.

"His grace wants to see you, Thom," the young serving man informed him.  Timon led the way through the halls towards the training master's study.

Thom's head swam.  Why would the duke want to see him?  He didn't think he was in trouble serious enough to merit a visit to the training master.  What could he have done?

He hesitantly knocked on the door, and opened it when a voice within bade him to enter.  The duke sat behind his desk, shuffling papers.  He looked grim.  Thom's heart sank.  Whatever he had done, he was in deep, deep trouble.

"Sit down," Duke Gareth said.  Thom sat.  "I've just received a letter from your father.  He was writing to say that your sister Alanna is missing.  She ran away from the convent."  He paused, craggy features grave.  "She's believed to be dead."

Thom was stricken.  Alanna?  Dead?  It was impossible.  Alanna wouldn't die.  She was too stubborn for that.  He looked at the duke.  The man nodded sadly.

"I'm sorry, Thom."

Thom rose unsteadily from the chair and stumbled out of the study, neglecting even to bow as he made his way back to his room.  Alanna was dead.  His twin sister was dead.

*****************************************************************************************************

**Okay guys, here's my small portion of individual replies for the reviews from last chapter.**

Alanna/Jonathan:  No, it will not be Jonathan, I know that much.  It might be George, it might be someone else.  George IS the likeliest possibility, but if you can think of someone you like better and why Alanna should end up with him, let me know.

Neona:  I too am leaving for July 4th, except I'll only be gone for a few days.  I hope you have fun on your vacation.  And look at it this way: when you get back, all of your favorite stories will probably be updated, and you'll have so much fun reading all of the updates you missed.

Dragonqueen:  Ah, a fellow slacker.  I hope you enjoyed your method of filling your time rather than being constructive.  As for your patience, let me tell you, you'll get used to it.  I felt the same initially, but the long wait really makes you appreciate each chapter more.

ThePenMage:  Awakens.  Yes, you're right, I did say that, and it is incorrect.  It was meant to be awakened, I guess I messed up when I was typing it.  I'll re-upload that chapter and fix it, because things like that always bother me when other people do it, so doing it myself would be inexcusable.  I always try to avoid doing things that annoy me when other people do them.  I'm not sure if awakened or awoke is the more correct tense, but I'm going to do it the way I meant it to be.  I know they're both past tense, but one of them is past perfect, and one of them isn't—except I don't remember the difference, so that's not going to be much help.  I kind of rambled through that, but I think you'll get the point.  Thank you for pointing that out to me, I appreciate the careful reading.

**All right, now's the time for you to REVIEW!  And don't forget to include ideas for Alanna's destiny.  I'll leave you to it.**


	7. ShamaninTraining

**Author's Note:  Hi everyone!  Here's Chapter Seven for you.  I know you've all been mad at me because of my long absence, but this chapter is pretty meaty.  I hope it'll make up for it.  Typed normally in twelve-point font, this thing is three pages long, so it should take you a while.  Lots of exciting things happen!**

**As for all your questions about camp:  It's in Minnesota, part of a series of camps called Concordia Language Villages.  Do I speak German?  Not really, but I'm good at Denglish.  That's our made-up word for Deutsch and English.  I learned a lot of German, but when I got there I knew nothing, so I'm not exactly a Sprachmeister.  (Sprachmeister is what you're called if you manage to speak German the whole day.  People who do that have major skills.)  More specific stuff in the individual replies.**

**Thanks for all the suggestions so far, but I could do with a lot more.  If you have any ideas about what you want Alanna's eventual destiny to be, write in the reviews or email me at miri_tiazan@hotmail.com.  Now for the story!**

Chapter 7: Shaman-in-Training 

Alanna pulled the hood of her burnoose up over her gleaming auburn hair and threw a scarf around her face.  This was not because she was a particularly proper Bazhir maiden; it was the windy season in the desert, and a scarf was good protection against the gritty, driving sand.

She took one last look around her small tent, and then ducked under the flap and out into the bright, desert landscape.  Squinting against the sun, Alanna made her way towards her master's tent.

At her soft scratch on the tent flap, Umar Komm lifted it and peered out.

"Ah, Kalan," he said, addressing her by her Bazhir name.  "Come in.  All we needed was you.  Now we are all here."

Alanna smiled and greeted her four fellow apprentices.  Kara, Kourrem, Ishak, and Fes.  The girls, Kara and Kourrem, were a few years younger than she was, but she and they were fast friends.  Ishak was closer to Alanna's age, but she had never really warmed to him.  There was something about him that Alanna didn't trust.  And then there was Fes.  Everybody loved Fes.  He wasn't the most talented apprentice in the group, but he was definitely the most exuberant.  He was like the whole village's comical kid brother.

He sometimes reminded Alanna of Thom.  There was really no striking similarity between the two, but every once in a while, he would do or say something that was so like her twin that the girl would catch her breath with homesickness.  The girl sighed.  She missed her brother terribly, even after four years.

Alanna banished her nostalgia as Umar Komm began to explain the intricate group working they were about to attempt, and lost herself in the fascination of the magic.

                                                                                                                          ~

Alanna swung into the saddle of her beloved mare Silvermoon.  She was on an errand for her tribe's shaman, Umar Komm.  He had given her a package that she needed to deliver to the shaman of another tribe.  Her delivery was done, and the long trip back awaited her.

The shaman's junior apprentice pressed her with food and drink.  "Take it, Kalan.  It is a long way back to the village of the Sunset Dragon.  You will have need of it."

Alanna accepted gracefully.  "Thank you, Kohr.  Your gift is appreciated."

The girl stowed the provisions in her saddlebags, then nudged Silvermoon into motion, clucking to make her travel faster.

"Let's go, girl.  We have a long way to go before we reach the village."

As the sun was nearing the horizon, winds began to pick up, carrying great waves of gritty sand grains.  Alanna slowed Silvermoon to a walk and squinted against the sand.  Up ahead, she saw a tiny clump of trees.  Shelter!

A few yards away from the trees, she dismounted and led the mare into the small grove.  The sandstorm was getting more violent, and Alanna knew there was no way she could possibly continue on through the gale.  The sand was blinding, and it got into everything.

Alanna reached for her canteen to soothe her parched throat, but was dismayed to discover that the grit had even permeated into the sealed flask of water.  Disgusted and thirsty, she glared at the world in general until a grain of sand got in her eye.

Hastily she blinked as her eyes began to water, but the speck was firmly lodged and would not come out.  That was the last straw.

In exasperation, she cast a magical shield around the small oasis.  Although magical in nature, she had created the shield as a physical block against the sand-filled gusts.

Blessed calm settled over the small, shielded area.  Outside of it, fierce winds howled, but could not penetrate the wall.  Finally with relief from the weather, Alanna indulged herself in a long list of spirited complaints.

"I hate sandstorms!  I hate wind, I hate sand, I hate the weather!  I hate the whole thrice-cursed desert!  Why do these things always happen to _me?_  This never happens to anyone else.  No, the ultimate misery is reserved for Alanna of Trebond.  Always has been, always will be.

"As if it wasn't bad enough living in Trebond with my stuffy old father!  No, I had to be sent away to that hell-hole they call a convent!  And then, when I managed to escape that, I was accosted by bandits, and then caught in the worst storm since before I was born, which got me lost in this _desert!_

"But that wasn't the worst of it!  Next I had the luck to be attacked by a band of vicious hillmen on the warpath!  Don't I just have the most fantastic life?"

Alanna continued ranting and kicked angrily at the sand.  It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, why did these things always happen to her—

Her boot banged into something solid.  Her next kick revealed a silver hilt and the very top of a dark scabbard.  Alanna fell silent and simply stared.

Falling to her knees, she scrabbled at the sand and revealed the sword in its entirety.  A faintly amethyst crystal adorned the beautiful silver hilt.  The sword blade was long and light, and encased in a battered black leather sheath.

Hesitantly, the girl closed her hand over the hilt and picked it up, then nearly dropped it as a clap of thunder shook the sky and lightning flashed.  She waited a moment to regain her courage.

Almost reverently, she drew the blade out of the sheath.  It was thinner than a broadsword, and lighter, with a broadsword's double edge.  The metal was lightweight, with a silver sheen.  She lightly touched a thumb to one edge and cut herself.  Grinning with delight, she tried a few passes.  It felt wonderful in her hand.  The balance was perfection itself, and it was exactly the right weight.  Alanna sighed and slid the blade back into the sheath.

The sword was ideal.  She was in love.  Dreamily, she lay back and went to sleep.

                                                                                                                          ~

Thunder clapped deafeningly.  Alanna awoke with a jolt, and stumbled over to check on Silvermoon.  The mare was restless, but otherwise fine.  She staggered back towards her makeshift bed, but suddenly the thunder crashed and lightning flashed, blinding Alanna.  She fell to her knees…

_She was staring at a gleaming black city.  Obsidian towers rose above smooth stone streets, seamless and perfect.  The hot desert sun beat down onto the stone and heat rose up, so that it was almost tangible._

_White-hot light flashed and struck the image from her vision.  A woman stood in front of her.  She was tall and slender, with unbound hair cascading down her back in black, snaky locks.  Her flawless skin was perfectly white, setting off slanting emerald eyes and full, blood red lips._

_"My daughter," said the stranger.  Her voice was husky and soft, like wind blowing through the treetops, yet somehow Alanna was reminded of a pack of hounds belling in the hunt.   Her voice held wildness in it, yet it also contained the ultimate peace.  "You have come a long way on your journey, but there is still far to go.  Strong though you may be, you cannot do your task unaided."  Alanna's vision flashed a picture of the strange sword for a brief moment, then returned to the woman._

_"This is no ordinary sword, my daughter.  It is of a magical nature, crafted long ago by those whom mortals call the Old Ones.  It will assist you in your task."  The crystal on the sword flared, blinding Alanna.  As she fell into darkness, the woman's voice echoed after her._

_"Remember…"_

                                                                                                                          ~

Alanna swam slowly up out of the depths of sleep as Silvermoon nuzzled her face with her nose.  She stretched and came into full awareness.

She was lying with facedown with her cheek pressed against warm sand.  Clutched tightly in her right hand was the hilt of the mysterious sword.  _This is no ordinary sword…_

Memory flashed.  Her vision!  A woman had spoken to her, told her she had a task.  But was she just an ordinary woman?  Alanna gasped as a hunch hit her.

But it could not be!  Why would the Great Mother Goddess take an interest in _her_?  She was nothing special, in her mind.  And yet…

The girl shook her head.  She would think about this more later.  She looked around.

The howling desert winds had died down to a light zephyr.  Alanna took down her shields; there was no need for them anymore.  Sunlight played through the leaves of the palm tree under which the girl lay.

She sat up and looked again at the sword in her hand.  It was a beautiful weapon.  What should she name it?

The girl sat a moment in thought, and then the answer hit her.  It was so obvious!  Almost every time Alanna had even touched the weapon, lightning had flashed.  She would name the sword Lightning.

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**All right.  Time for my individual replies.  Yay!**

Morrigan:  Wow, thanks!  I'm flattered.

ThePenMage:  Camp was not at all like a concentration camp.  ::stops and thinks about this for a second::  Okay, so maybe some of the counselors had swastikas on their arms, but really…  Just kidding!  Camp was a blast.  I used to have braces, and you have my sympathies for those metal instruments of torture you are forced to wear, but think how nice it will be when you finally get them OFF!  Thanks for the suggestions about her future.  I will definitely consider them.  As for Thom being in denial, try not to be so psychic.  I haven't posted that part yet!  ---------  As for your comments on Chapter Five…  I sympathize with your unfortunate affliction with perfectionism.  They need a support group for perfectionists.  They could call it PAPP.  Perfectionists Against Prolific Perfectionism!  (You know, like M.A.D.D., or S.A.D.D.)  I think we could be the founding members.  As for the Bazhir hostility thing…  I may be a perfectionist in some instances, but most of the time I'm just a slacker.  I'm way too lazy to make them make a fuss.  Besides, she's been accepted by the two most important people in the tribe—the shaman and the headman.  Who's going to mess with that?

Temptress:  If I end up doing the page angle, you will see how I do it.  At the moment, the end still allows for an infinite number of possibilities, becoming a page is one of them.  As for speaking German…  I think I already explained that.  And they may have Twix in Germany, but they sure don't have them at Waldsee.  They're confiscated as contraband, along with any American books, music, or other food.  Hey, but living in Germany!  That's awesome!  By the way, why fluffy bugs?  I don't get it.  ::walks away slowly, scratching head, and muttering, "fluffy bugs…"::

Keziah:  ::backs away slowly::  Don't hurt me!  I'm sorry!  Don't hurt me!  ::cowers, and then suddenly bursts out laughing::  Wow, that was fun.  I love fake-cowering.  (Yes, I know I'm a big loser.)  Ooh, I have to catch up on your story!  (Hard to keep on top of things when you're incommunicado for two mosquito-filled weeks.)

__________, or the person whose name didn't show up on the page:  Thanks for the review, although I must inform you that it will be a loooooooong time before she gets to Corus.  She's got lots of stuff to do first.

Princess Kattera:  Umm, yeah, the shortness can be attributed to the fact that I didn't know what to say, so I said very little.  I kinda suck at stuff like that.  And lucky for you, George is the current most likely candidate for Alanna's love interest.  (That is, of course, unless she meets some hot Bazhir guy…  But I don't think she will.  But hey, what do I know.  I just write these things down.)

Punkpixie87:  You've seen the light?  What light?  Are there fireworks going on?  ::ducks the affronted glare saying, "You know what I mean, M'cha.::  Just kidding.  It's late at night and I'm on a bit of an adrenaline high.  You know, every time I read your review, it messes with my mind.  When you say "thom," I always think you mean "them," but then it doesn't make sense in the context.  Capitalization works wonders!  Proper nouns need to be capitalized!  Sorry about that.  I don't mean to nitpick, but I've had too many years of over-enthusiastic grammar teachers.  They're scary when they get worked up over things like that.  Really they are.  ::shivers in remembrance of disturbingly worked-up writing teachers::  Man, all of my readers are psychic!  First ThePenMage, now you!  You're not supposed to know these things!  As to why you're psychic, I'll let you figure that out.  In a couple chapters, you will see what I mean.  Mean.  Yes, I know I'm mean.  Tough teriyaki.  (Did I spell that right?)  Anyway, how is that a cliffie?  You know Alanna's not dead.  Oh, I see.  You're worried about Thom.  Don't.  He'll be okay.  Eventually.  Whatever may happen to him, it'll all work out in the end.  I'm very fond of Thom.  I refuse to let him die, no matter what he tries.

DragonFire:  I see you too are in favor of going to Corus and scandalizing the aristocracy.  That is an idea.  I'll have to see what my imp thinks.  He's got all the good ideas.  But he's a bit of a recluse, so he doesn't come out much.  (I'm trying to convince him he needs to get out more, but what can I say?  He's anti-social.  I respect that.)

**Wow!  Look at all the people I wrote notes to!  You like me!  You really like me!  (Doesn't someone say that in a movie somewhere?  It sounds familiar…)  Anyway, now is the time to press the "Click Here To Submit Review" button, so I can write you a note next chapter!  Don't forget, I need suggestions for Alanna's destiny!  Review or email your ideas to me!**


	8. KnightinTraining

**Author's Note: Yay!  Another chapter for all of you awesome people!  I love hearing your comments, questions, advice, rants, pleadings, random anecdotes, etc.  And if anyone feels like flaming, go ahead.  I almost wish someone would flame.  Then I would feel so fulfilled.  But don't flame if you don't really mean it.  Only flame if you honestly don't like it.  I need a flame to give me a sense of reality.  You guys are just too perfect.  You can't possibly be this nice.**

**I still don't know exactly how I want to end my story, so I'm going to let you give me suggestions for the eventual destiny of Alanna. The one I was originally going to use was to get her to become a page at the palace. If you like that idea, say so, if you have another idea, please tell me. Nothing too specific, though, because I wouldn't want to spoil it for people.**

Chapter 8: Knight-in-Training

Thom bent over his mathematics work with a will.  He enjoyed the academics part of his lessons at the palace.  As for magic, he finally had managed to get lessons as well as continuing his private studies outside of classes.  Since the Sweating Sickness, Duke Roger of Conte had returned to the palace and was giving all of the Gifted pages and squires classes.

Thom didn't mind the lessons, but he didn't like Duke Roger overly much.  There was nothing tangible to which he could trace his mistrust of the man, but Thom had a gut feeling about him.  The duke was up to no good.

The boy also had a suspicion that Duke Roger might have been behind the mysterious fever that had almost taken the Prince's life.  If Thom hadn't been able to save him by calling on Mithros for aid, Jon would have died.  As it was, Jon had been seriously weakened.  He was fully recovered now, but it had been a while until the prince had been able to take part in all of the training necessary for an aspiring knight.

Thom had taken his suspicions to his friend in the city, George Cooper.  George was, to put it politely, not on his Majesty's side of the law.  Bluntly, he was a thief.  The King of Thieves, actually.  But none of that bothered Thom.  The Rogue was a good friend, and he allowed Thom to practice some of the more complicated spells within his rooms at the Dancing Dove.

As Thom finished his last problem, his eyes lighted on the one letter Alanna had sent him before she had disappeared.  It was the last thing he had to remember her.  He didn't think he'd ever see her again.  Although he may have accepted that, he still wouldn't believe his sister was dead.

Alanna wasn't the type to tamely lie down and die.  She had run away from the convent.  Thom refused to believe she had gotten herself killed.  She was simply somewhere she couldn't get in touch with him.  And of course, she couldn't communicate with anyone, because she would get dragged back to the convent.

He wondered where she was, and what she was doing.  Would he ever see her again?

*************************************************************************************************************************** 

**Hey guys!  Do you know I got 11 reviews for last chapter?  How cool is that?  That has to be a record!  I think the responses for this one are going to be longer than the chapter.**

Morrigan:  Well, if you spelled it wrong, I certainly can't tell.  And yes, the first few chapters weren't the best ones I've written.  I like these later chapters better too.  Hey, it's from Rocky and Bullwinkle?  I haven't even SEEN that movie.  Maybe I got it from the previews…

Barannilwen:  Yes, that's exactly what I thought when writing this!  As for my reviewing your story—try and stop me!

Temptress:  Yes, they confiscated CDs.  Although lots of people smuggled them in.  Along with lots of good American candy, but that all got eaten in the first few days.  As for the rest of your review…  ::sits back in seat and laughs for five minutes::  You always manage to make me laugh, even when I'm way down in the dumps.  Which I'm not, but if I were, you would bring me out of them.

Punkpixie87:  Yay!  Caps!  I explained all about the evil pixie in a review on your story, so you should understand that by now.  Do you know it took me two days to figure out what you meant by GMG?  I felt so stupid when I finally realized it was just Great Mother Goddess.  I guess I must be getting stupider.  ::laughs at her own idiocy::  Yes, I tend to laugh at myself a lot.  I am just so incredibly funny in the dumb things I manage to do.  Like, I fall off of benches a lot.  I did that at camp once at lunch, and I was stuck in between the benches.  It took two counselors and my friend to get me out.  It was pretty funny.  OH MY GOSH!  BADNESS IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME!  SAVE ME FROM THE BADNESS!  AHHHHHH!!!!!!  ::runs screaming away from the badness, and then stops::  Oh wait.  That was only if I didn't post.  Ha ha.  Silly me.

~J~: Well, that was certainly enthusiastic.  Are you happy now?

Keziah:  Yup, it's Lightning.  How Lightning ended up in the middle of the desert…just don't ask.  As for mosquitoes—don't even get me started.  I will not begin to rant, I will not begin to rant—Oh,  I give up!  I HATE MOSQUITOES!  HOW DARE THEY SUCK MY BLOOD AND GIVE ME AN UNCOMFORTABLE RED WELT IN ORDER TO PROPAGATE THEIR MISERABLE SPECIES!  I HOPE THEY ARE ALL STRUCK DOWN BY THE GOD OF BUGSPRAY!  DIE DIE DIE DIE!!!!!!!  DIE EVIL MOSQUITOES!!!!!  Okay, I think I'm done now.

Neona:  Is your grandfather okay?  I hope it wasn't anything too serious.  As for camp, look up the website if you really want to go.  Just search for Concordia Language Villages.  You should be able to find the site easily.

Clinkin:  You'll just have to wait and see, now won't you?  By the way, when did I get a Miss in front of my name?

Allure:  Oh, that is such a good idea, except I don't think it'll work now.  Grrrr.  I wish I could use that.  Maybe I will figure out how to do it, but I don't know that it will work.

ThePenMage:  My re-upload showed up on the first page?  It didn't do that for me.  It changed, it just didn't show up on the first page.  That is kind of odd.  And her name is Kalan because I felt like giving her a Bazhir name.  It makes it easier in the later chapters.  Time flew because I didn't want to write four years of juvenilia.  Your rambling cracked me up.  I love it when teachers say things like that.  It's like they actually believe you enjoy listening to their long and boring speeches.  Yes, you are special.  You're very special.  Congrats on your imminent release from orthodontia!  Yes, I do have a retainer, which I am supposed to wear, except I don't.  The orthodontist despairs of me.  As for the veil thing:  THEY JUST DID, OKAY?  WHY CAN'T YOU JUST ACCEPT THAT?  ::bursts into tears and runs away sobbing madly::  Just kidding.  : P

**Yay!  Now you get to review again, so that I can write you a happy response next chapter!  Don't forget your ideas for Alanna's future!**


	9. News of a Journey

**Author's Note:  Not the world's longest chapter, but it's respectable.  A page and a half, normal formatting.  I must warn you, however, that a) the chapters are going to get shorter before they get longer, and b) the chapters will be a bit slower going up.  What with all of the back to school frenzy, I have to go do stuff.  I'm also having a bit of writer's block on this because of my gloom about the advent of that tortuous creation they call eighth grade.  I don't want to go back to school!  I need another month of summer to relax!  But it is not meant to be.  On August 28 I will be herded into the halls of WJHS, and be forced to submit to education.  Oh the horrors!**

**You see why I'm depressed.  School has cast its dark and depressing shadow over my August, and I don't even know if my friends are in my classes yet.  (The evil school people wait until the last minute to tell you all the stuff you WANT to know, and tell you the stuff you don't much earlier than you'd like.)  Ah well.  I'm in the process of resigning myself to my fate.**

**Also, my parents just spontaneously decided that we're flying to Oregon to visit my grandma towards the end of this week, so if I don't get an update in before I go, the next chapter will be a while.  I'm sorry, but being only thirteen, I have minimal say in my summer schedule.**

**I still am welcoming ideas for the eventual fate of Alanna.  Give me ideas in the reviews or email me your pet destiny, and I will ponder all of your responses as I plan the end of my story.  (Can you feel the end approaching?  I can, and it makes me sad.  I think I'll string it out more.  Sorry, but I don't want it to be over yet.  I like it too much.)  Anyway, enough of my blabbing!  On with the story!**

Chapter 9:  News of a Journey

In the April of Thom's fourth year as a page, Lord Martin of Meron rode north to visit his son Geoffrey and to request additional troops for his fief.  To Thom, Fief Meron meant desert—the Great Southern Desert, to be exact.  Fief Meron consisted of leagues of sun-baked sand stretching from the Coastal Hills to the Tyran Peaks.  This harsh land harbored the Bazhir, the war-like desert tribesmen not all loyal to the King or his governor, Lord Martin.

None of this would have mattered much to Thom if word hadn't filtered down among the pages that Lord Martin would be taking the squires back with him to the desert, so that the boys who would soon be knights would have a chance to see what the Bazhir were like.  The situation with the Bazhir being as shaky as it was, there was a high probability that all of them would one day face the Bazhir, and no one wanted knights of Tortall going into battle blind.

As a fourth year page, Thom wouldn't be going, but almost all of his friends would.  Jon, Gary, Raoul, and Alex were all squires.  Thom was the only one who was still a page.  And that wasn't it.  Sir Myles, Thom's favorite teacher, was going too.

Thom bit his lip unhappily.  He would just have to deal with it.  He couldn't go.

                                                                                                                          ~

Prince Jonathan of Conte watched his friend surreptitiously.  Thom hadn't said anything, but Jon could tell he was upset about the squires' trip to Persopolis.  Not only were Jon and his friends going, but Sir Myles was going too.  Jon knew how Thom felt about Myles.  The knight was like a second father to him.

Jon let out a thoughtful breath.  It would solve everything if only Thom could come along on their trip to Persopolis.  He sat up straighter.  That was it!  All he had to do was ask his uncle to allow Thom to go with them to Persopolis.  **(A/N: In case you forgot, Duke Gareth is Jon's uncle as well as the training master.)**

                                                                                                                          ~

Alanna pushed the hood of her burnoose back before she entered the tent, revealing her long copper hair.  She ducked under the door flap and into the cool interior of the shaman's tent.

"You wanted me?" she asked Umar Komm, her teacher and the tribe's shaman.  He looked up and smiled.

"Yes, Alanna."  He paused, watching her. "Although I have a few other apprentices, you are my oldest student, and I know I can depend on you."  Alanna waited.  She wasn't quite sure where this conversation was going.  At this point, it was safer to say nothing.  "I need you to take a package to Persopolis, to give to the Voice of the Tribes.  It is critical that this package be delivered, and I know I can trust you to get it there."  Alanna nodded.

"Of course I'll take this package to Persopolis for you.  It's not as if I have much else to do around here."  She smiled ruefully.  "I'm pretty sure I've learned most of the shamanic magic you know, and I'm afraid the village warriors are getting tired of tutoring me in the fighting arts."  The man laughed.

"Tutoring you?  You probably know more than any one of them!  And you're right; there is little I have left to teach you of our magic.  You could take the Ordeal of Shamans today, if you wished."

Alanna smiled, a little embarrassed.  "Well, I don't wish to take the Ordeal, so let's leave it there.  When do you want me to leave?"

"As soon as possible," he told her.  As she turned to leave, he cleared his throat.  She turned back.

"Yes?"

"You probably should…" He trailed off, twirling a lock of his own raven black hair.  Alanna laughed, nodding, and left the tent.

She knew what he meant.  Her copper hair didn't exactly look Bazhir, and it would cause a lot less problems if she didn't have to deal with people questioning her identity.  She had dyed her hair black several times before in order to avoid awkward queries.  It would be nothing to do it again.  As for the rest of her complexion, four years in the desert had tanned her skin a warm golden-brown.  White northern skin wouldn't give her away.

She ducked into her own tent and began to pack.  She would enjoy her trip to Persopolis.

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**Wow!  I got nineteen reviews since I posted!  How cool is that?  (Well, actually, four of them were from opal-dragon, but she's been gone for a month or so.  She's making up for lost time.)  I have so many awesome people to respond to now!**

Opal-dragon:  Wow.  So much to say.  I think I'm going to have to separate this review into sections.  Alrighty.

          Chapter 5:  Aha!  I surprised you!  As for The Glass Child, it was my pleasure.  I seriously think it sounds like a story I might read in some fantasy anthology.  One of those semi-creepy thought-provoking things that just make shiver, but that you think are really, really good.  I'm not even kidding.  It sounds professional.  I think sometime you should try to get it published somewhere.  It really is that good.  Quagmire: grrrr.  Not the coolest word, but still cool.  And you guys are entitled to your own opinions.  I can't believe you two actually agree on something.  That must be a record.

          Chapter 6:  Yeah, that's one of my favorite lines too.  Wow, Teri.  You could write your own ending to this thing.  It'd probably be a lot better than mine, actually.  But you know.  I think I might incorporate some of that in a sequel I'm thinking of writing.  Actually, if I do decide to do it, maybe we could do it together.  Think how good it would be then.  Hey, I think we should do that.  But not immediately, because I'm in the middle of several different complicated stories and everything right now.  But eventually.  I think I might actually write a sequel to this one now.  Your ideas just sparked a lot of new ideas for me.  We should definitely collaborate.

          Chapter 7:  You really think I'm getting better?  Yay!  I didn't realize that it was improving that much.  I don't think I deserve you.  You're much too good a reviewer and encourager and cool nice person.  Thank you!

          Chapter 8:  I thought Thom needed a little time in the spotlight.  Besides, he is necessary to the development of the plot line.  He is helpful when being written about.  I'm glad you like Alanna's Bazhir name.  She needs one in the later chapters, and I was thinking it shouldn't be too different from her real name.  What emerged was Kalan.

Dragonlady:  Well, I continue to write.  So now you get to review again!  Yay!

Dragonwing5:  Congrats on your new pen-name, Patsy!  Are you going to post any of your stories any time soon?  You definitely should sometime.  J

Barannilwen:  I apologize for the shortness, but I'm beginning to think I'm incapable of writing longer chapters.  You'll just have to wait for the next update, I guess.  J  I'm so mean.

Jessica:  Hmmm, let me think about that.  ::sits and thinks for about ten seconds::  No.

Temptress:  ::snorts and then begins to chuckle::  Oh, you never cease to rise to new levels!  I love your reading your reviews!  ::returns to chuckling::

ThePenMage:  No, you should not.  Expect nothing.  Every chapter is a gift.  You begin to take things for granted…  Poof!  They are taken away.  You should never EXPECT things.  All right, enough of that little spiel.  I'm done with that.  You don't care about my weird philosophy.  Watermelons.  Is your head a small watermelon, or a large one?  Does it have two different colors of green?  I love how watermelon rinds have two different colors of green in that funky little watermelon pattern.  Umm, I didn't misunderstand you.  I didn't see it on the first page of the TP section.  Maybe the site does something weird when you re-upload chapters.  I don't know, but it wasn't there for me.  I'm glad you do not accept things.  Never accept anything.  I DO NOT ACCEPT THAT!  Good motto.  I only said you should cause I was tired of trying to explain things.  So, finally I am going to make you happy.  I will eventually go back and make that chapter happy in a way that only I could make it happy so that you can be satisfied as to a reason why they let her into the tribe.  That's what I will do.  Just for you.  But later.  Probably not for a while, but I WILL do it.  Okay?  So just deal with the mystery right now, and I will resolve that little discrepancy for you.  All right?  If you're not happy now, I'm just going to wash my hands of the whole thing, and you can just make up your own reason why they let her in.

Keziah:  Thank you for the flaming effort.  Really, I don't think length flames are truly flameful, but it's the thought that counts.  Thank you.  And thank you for your compliment about Thom not thinking Alanna would die.

Silva Sun: Wow, thanks!  It is definitely the most probable pairing in my story, but hey, something else might happen.  But no matter what, it will not be Alanna/Jonathan, so don't worry about that.  I will do my best not to make it sappy, I'll promise you that.  By the way, I love your pen name.  It's so cool.

Neona:  I'm glad to hear your grandfather's fine.  But I can't believe they assigned you homework over the summer!  That's despicable!  Summer reading is bad enough, but an English paper?  What cruelty!  I'm sorry you don't think the chapters are long enough, but they refuse to go any longer.  They'll stop when they want to, and nothing is going to make them keep going.  Not even me.  Not even you.

Crown:  It wasn't the gender I was objecting to, but the formality of the thing.  I don't know that anyone's ever seriously called me Miss before.  I'm just not a formal person.

Morrigan:  Wow, and I thought _I_ rambled.  Well, thank you for your rambling.  It did actually make sense, and I appreciate it very much.

Punkpixie87:  I appreciate the flaming effort, but really, I don't think length flames really count.  Nor do slow-updating flames.  Those actually show appreciation, because people want more of your writing.  So really, it's not a flame.  But anyway, it's the thought that counts.  You meant to flame.  And I'm sorry, but I'm not sure George is actually going to make an appearance before I end this fic.  Perhaps in the sequel I am considering.  But it's only in the consideration stages, so don't get too excited too soon.  I'm not sure if I am actually going to do it yet.  She will get to Corus eventually, I'm just not sure in what guise.  And she is NOT going to fall in love with Jon.  How many times must I say that I am A/G?  SHE'S NOT GOING TO FALL IN LOVE WITH JON!  JON IS NOT RIGHT FOR ALANNA AT ALL!  NO JON LOVENESS!  Okay?  Are you convinced yet?  And I will do my best to incorporate no sappiness.  I'm not big on melodramatic soap-opera sap either, so there is no way I'm going to let it ruin my fic.  Thank you for all the nice things you say.  You are one of my nicest reviewers, it makes me all warm and fuzzy.  Thank you!

KeladryLadyKnight:  Thank you!  Shortness of chapters is somewhat inevitable.  See my answer to Neona about review shortnessness.

Slone:  Yet another psychic reader!  Either you guys all of ESP, or I am way too predictable.  I wonder which it is?

Amelia:  Thank you!  J

**Whew!  ::wipes sweat off brow::  That was quite something!  It's amazing to me that I have so many responses, and I'd like to thank all of you for reviewing my story.  THANK YOU EVERYBODY!**

**Also, you guys should definitely read some other very nice people's fics.  Namely, opal-dragon's fics, and punkpixie87's fics.  They both have fantastic Alanna stories.  No one should miss them.  SO GO READ THEM!**

**Alrighty, now, since all of you awesome people are so great and encouraging, go be great and encouraging and review again, and then I can write you a happy reply.  Oh, and as always, if anyone has the urge to flame something…  But really, length flames don't really count.  That's all I've been getting.  Nobody will come and flame my story properly.  Anyway, now is the time to REVIEW!**


	10. Persopolis

**Author's Note:  Ah, the irritating idiosyncrasies of the internet.  I was going to upload this chapter this morning, much earlier, but the stupid thing isn't working, so now I'm just sort of waiting to upload this.  Grrr.  Hey, but guess what, people?  I was going to tell you how I'm going to have to draw everything out slower because I've been having writer's block on the end, and I also said that the end is near.  But guess what?  I had a flash of inspiration which broke my writer's block, and now the final chapter is going to be two chapters farther away.  Admittedly, one is a supershort, cheap chapter, but it counts nonetheless.  Aren't you happy for me?  After months of not being able to figure out how to make the end work, I've finally figured it out, and now it's going to be done soon!**

**It would be done sooner, except I can't remember what I did with my copy of _Alanna_, and I need it to do something.  Isn't that just the most awful luck?  But fear not, because if worse comes to worse, I'll just go to the library and borrow a copy.  Or maybe my friend will lend me her copy…  But I might find my own before it comes to that.**

**Umm, yeah, I know I kinda cheated and got a lot of this chapter from the book, but it was kind of inevitable, if you know what I mean.  It _had_ to be the way it is.**

**Oh, I forgot.  I wrote the replies to reviews before I had my inspiration, so I keep saying that it'll be a while before you get to the end, and that the chapters will be coming slower, and all that.  Well, just ignore that, because although the chapters will be a little slower, they won't be really slow, which is what I thought before.  Anyway, read the chapter!**

Chapter 10:  Persopolis

Alanna looked up towards the high granite walls of Persopolis.  The soldiers on the walls held weapons that Alanna knew were well cared for and much used.  The city was built even stronger than what Trebond.  Or at least, stronger than what Alanna remembered Trebond as being.  She hadn't been back in four years.

The closer she came to Persopolis, the more Bazhir she met.  They passed her with a nod and a curious look for her violet eyes.  Alanna was used to it.  Most Bazhir she saw had curious glances for her violet eyes and northern cast of features.  Many didn't notice the difference between her and other Bazhir girls, but the perceptive did, and many of them stared inquisitively at her.  Alanna ignored them.

She passed through the gates of the city and showed her pass to the guard at the gates.  He waved her on to the heart of the city.

After a few minutes, she came to the castle.  She gave Silvermoon to the man waiting for her horse and asked to see the governor.  The girl knew that the Northerners would not recognize Ali Mukhtab's other title.  She walked quickly toward the Sunset Room, following the directions she had been given.  She noticed some sort of banquet going on, but paid no attention to it.  It wasn't her business.

                                                                                                                          ~

Thom sighed wearily.  This formal banquet was getting tiring.  Although he didn't mind social events very much, after a long day of travel, the dinner wasn't his idea of a good time.  He was tolerating it; Alanna would have been miserable.  Alanna.  He let out a sad sigh.  It had been almost four years, and he still missed her.  In fact, he still barely believed she was dead.

His reverie was interrupted as a dark, well-dressed man appeared in front of him.  The stranger was Bazhir, with walnut skin and glossy black hair.

"Can I help you?" the boy asked.  The stranger shook his head.

"No, but I believe I can help you.  My name is Ali Mukhtab; I am the governor of this castle.  Sir Myles told me that you were asking about the Bazhir.  I believe I can answer your questions."

Thom considered this.  He _had_ been asking Myles about the Bazhir.  They discomfited him somehow—maybe it was their curious stares.

"Why do you, a young man from a northern fief, wish to know about the Bazhir?"

"A person can never tell where he'll end up," Thom said bluntly.  "I understand northerners.  I don't understand the Bazhir."

"What is it you want to know?"

"Well, for one thing, why does Persopolis exist?  Why one city, out of the entire desert?  And why here?"

Ali Mukhtab smiled.  "If you and your friends can leave discreetly, I will show you the reason for this city."

                                                                                                                    ~

Alanna rose as the door opened.  She had been told to wait in the Sunset Room for the Voice.  It seemed he had finally arrived.

Ali Mukhtab and five boys entered the room.  Alanna stifled a gasp as she recognized one as her twin brother, Thom.  She quickly regained her composure as the Voice addressed her.

"Umar Komm's apprentice, I presume?"

Alanna nodded.  "Yes, sir.  Here is the package he sent you."

The man smiled his thanks and put the package aside on a shelf.  He indicated the boys, who were watching curiously.  "These are Squires Thom, Gareth, Raoul, and Alex, and Prince Jonathan, son of the Northern King."

Alanna nodded, acknowledging them.  "I am Kalan, apprentice to Umar Komm, shaman of Sunset Dragon," she said, giving her Bazhir name.  The boys nodded in return, and Ali Mukhtab's eyes twinkled.  He knew who she really was, but didn't mention anything about it.

"I brought these young men here to see the Sunset Room to show them the reason Persopolis exists," the Voice told her.

The boys wandered around the room.  Thom looked at the mosaics on the walls, while the one Alanna assumed was Prince Jonathan looked out at the view of the desert.  Suddenly he pointed.

"That small black spot—just where the sun is.  That's the Black City?"

Ali Mukhtab nodded.  "That is the Black City, the doom of my people for centuries.  Ever since we can remember—and our memories reach beyond the days when your palace, Highness, was a palace for the Old Ones—our young people have been called to the Black City.  Our masters lived there, the Nameless Ones.  They stole our souls and gave us farms and cattle.  We swore never to farm again.  Legends say we stopped there when we came north, over the Inland Sea.  The Nameless Ones welcomed us and asked us to share their land and farm their crops.  All this, the legends say, was green and fertile."  Ali's hand swept over the leagues of empty sand.  "When we saw that they were stealing our spirits, we rebelled.  We burned them and their city, and all the land turned to dust.  After we left, never to return, we built Persopolis, so that we might watch the City, always."

"How could you burn them out, if they were so powerful?" Gary wanted to know.

"They feared fire above all things," the man replied.  "Their spirits linger in the City, but they cannot pass the circle of fire we placed around their walls."

"You said they call your young people," Alex said.  "What do you mean?"

The man sighed.  "Sometimes a youth or a maiden will awaken in the night and try to ride to the City.  If they are stopped, they rave and scream and refuse their food, talking only of the city and of the gods who wish them to come there.  If we do not let them go, they starve themselves to death."

"And if they go, they don't come back," Jonathan said quietly.  Alanna looked at him.  He seemed to be paying unusual attention to Ali Mukhtab.  Most Northerners dismissed Bazhir legends as nothing more than the silly fantasies of a backwards people.  This boy, however…  He was genuinely interested.  Alanna stored that knowledge away for future reference.

"Isn't it better to let them go?" Raoul asked.  "Maybe it isn't the City at all.  Your life—well, it's harsh.  Maybe they really go on to other cities, to live somewhere else."

"We would like to think so," the governor of the castle replied.  "But we have trained our young to be honest."  His eyes were on Alanna as he said this, and she squirmed.  "Those who leave us for the cities go with their families' blessings—or curses—but they always tell us that is where they go.  Those who want the Black City speak only of it, as if they could not lie about it if they tried."

"It seems cruel to me to tie them up and keep them," Raoul said, yawning sleepily.  It was getting late.

"To the Bazhir, even death by starvation is better than the fate we think awaits them there," Ali Mukhtab told him.  "We have another legend—the Bazhir have many legends—that says one day we will be free of the call of the City.  It says two gods, the Night One and the Burning-Brightly One, will go into the City to battle with the immortals there.   I do not know how true that may be."  The Bazhir smiled.  "Some, like Lord Martin, say we have many legends because we possess little else.  He is probably right."

"Your people seem to be old and wise," Jonathan remarked.  He was standing by the window, watching the last pool of sun disappear into the desert.  Alanna congratulated herself on being correct in her observations.  "It's too bad no one has written a history of the Bazhir."

Ali Mukhtab looked at him.  His eyes opened wide, fixing Jonathan with his strangely intent gaze.  "Are you interested in such things, Highness?"

Jonathan returned that powerful look evenly.  "I have to be," he said.  "The Bazhir will be my people too, someday."

Mukhtab bowed low.  "I will see if such a history can be found—or written."

"I look forward to reading it," the Prince replied.  He followed his friends out into the hall.  Alanna remained behind, watching her brother and his friends leave the room.  Mukhtab turned his attention to her.

"You should tell your brother who you are.  He believes you to be dead.  He is grieving."  Alanna nodded.

"I will," she said.  "I just thought it should be in private."

Alanna felt Mukhtab's eyes on her as she walked out into the hall.

*************************************************************************************************************************** 

**All right, it's time to respond to all my reviews!  Guess what?  You guys just put me over the centennial mark!  Over 100 reviews!  Yippeeeeeee!!!!!!!  Here we go…**

Cloud Walker:  I'm sorry, but I HAVE been having writer's block on this story.  I'm trying to stretch it out so that at least there isn't a big huge pause where I don't post anything, but I'm afraid there's going to be big long gaps anyway.  Be patient with me.  I'm doing my very best not too make it too awful for you guys.

Punkpixie87:  Nonsense, you deserve all the praise you can get.  Why do you think you have over two hundred reviews?  Because your story is really good!  Silly pixie.  I'm not sure that that paragraph actually qualifies as a rant, even though you say it does.  More of a ramble, to my mind.  To rant, you have to be ANGRILY VEHEMENT, which you weren't.  (Isn't it fun to write things IN CAPITALS?  It's so FUN!)  At least, you didn't sound like it.  Thanks for the compliments.  ::blushes::  You're such a nice reviewer person.  You put me in a good mood.  And actually, I'm afraid Jon is going to be pretty heavily in attendance in the next few chapters.  Unfortunately, I need him for the plot.  Just like you have to have A/J fluff for your story to work.  But there won't be any A/J fluff, I promise.  She's pretty mean to him, actually.  Because let's face it, he's an idiot.  He needs all the dissing he can get.

Lady Gabriella of Queenscove:  Too bad, her hair is black now.  But don't worry.  Thom will be all happy again.  Just not right now.  And anyway, don't you think he's better this way than when he gets all weird and freaky after he comes back from the City of the Gods?  I mean, he's depressed, but not brooding.  Although he does the brooding thing well, I admit.

Lady of Red Oak Forest:  Well, this is more.  But you'll have to wait longer intervals for stuff now, I'm afraid.  What with my writer's block and school and all.

Dragonlady:  If I want you to flame…  What?  Did I miss something?

Elspeth:  Hey, a Misty fan!  At least, I assume so, from your nom de plume.  Thanks for all the encouragement.  : )

Athena Masterson:  Yay, thank you!  I assure you, the end is swiftly approaching.  But the chapters are longer than most of mine, if that gives you any comfort.  Umm, not too sure about a sequel.  The ideas are there, and it probably will get written eventually, but I think it'll be a while before it gets up here.  And sorry, but George isn't going to make his debut until the next story.  Well, would you look at that.  I'm not too sure about the sequel, but my fingers seem to be pretty certain I'm going to write one.  How strange.  Hey, German food IS good.  But after two weeks, you tend to miss your American junk food.  Or at least, I do.  Can't speak for everyone.  As for your seemingly endless chapters, I'd be happy if they WERE endless.  That way I could spend the rest of my life reading your story…  ::stops to contemplate that wonderful idea::  That'd be bliss.  All right, I think I covered everything there.  Oh wait.  I need to add a resounding THANK YOU!

Babooshka:  Hmm.  Raving is possible, but I have a decided preference for staring in that context.  But raving has its uses.  Yes, I like that word.  "Silvermoon neighed;"  Yes, the semi-colon does go there.  Semi-colons are often substituted instead of a change of sentence when one wants to show a close relationship between to sentences.  That little phrase thingy could also be written, "Silvermoon neighed.  Maliciously, Alanna fancied."  But it really works better the way it is.  I am sorry that you read the sentence wrong—I hate it when that happens to me.  Okay, the Bazhir big cheeses accepted her for lots of reasons, which I'm too lazy to write out right now.  I'm eventually going to go back and change that, due to complaints from other reviewers.  ::cough,:: THEPENMAGE, ::cough::  You don't like Thom?  I like Thom.  He's fun to mess with.  Yes, Goddess and sword have made their entrance.  Ummm, Thom's life is not overly important to the story, so for the foreseeable future, we're just going to ignore that part of his existence.  As for the rest…my lips are sealed.

ThePenMage:  Yes, isn't it happy?  I've actually passed 100 reviews!  Yay!  Well, you can kind of tell the end is getting close in this chapter.  Build up, and all that.  It's not fair.  Everybody starts school after Labor Day, except for me.  I live an unfortunate life.  (Well, not really, but you know.)  No, Meron is actually the name of the fief in the book.  I didn't even realize it was in Pern until you mentioned it.  But now I can't remember what part of it the series it's from.  Meron, that is.  I seem to have this connection to Bitra.  Maybe it's the name of that psycho dude from Bitra in Dragonseye.  Or maybe it's one of the other holds names…  No, I don't think it's a hold.  What IS it?  I haven't read the Pern books for a while.  Wait a second, didn't I say that Thom was going?  Oh no, I just said Jon was going to ask Duke Gareth.  Well, you were supposed to assume he said yes.  Sorry about that.  You'll be happy to know that Jon bashing will commence shortly.  Shamanic—I don't know if that's right, either, but I think it's more right than just shaman.  We'll just pretend it's correct.  Who knows, maybe it is.  Hey, Alanna could go Goth, couldn't she?  Black hair, black burnoose, black make-up, and she'd be set.  Except that'd be kind of hot in the desert sun, wouldn't it.  Don't be sorry about the long reviews.  I LIKE long reviews.  And I gave you an equally long response.

Keziah:  It seems like it, doesn't it.  If I say anything more than that, I will be angry at my blabbermouthness, so I will stop now, before I give anything away.

Da-xia Nariko:  Yay, one hundred!  I'm happy too.  Thank you for all your nice stuff.

Citrus Wine:  How can I say it?  Easily.  I'm such a perfectionist, I truly believe it's bad.  I'm glad YOU don't think so, however.

Barannilwen:  School is only a week away!  ::sniff::  And my friends are all incommunicado, so I don't know if anyone's in my classes!  I hope it's not like last year where none of my really good friends were in my classes.  Cross your fingers for me.

Seishi:  As previously stated, I am A/G.  So there isn't going to be any A/J romance if I can help it.  If it there is, I will be very upset with myself.

__________, or the Nameless One:  Grrr, it really bothers me that you have no name.  Can't you just do a _____ at least, instead of just the           empty space?  It messes with my mind.  But thanks for the review, at least.

Temptress:  Yes, I do want flames.  Why?  I'm a pyro.  (Just kidding.  Well, I am, but that's not why I wanted flames.)  I think I explained this to someone before…  Oh yes, I had a big discussing about this with opal-dragon.  But anyway.  I happen to like knowing what's wrong with my story.  I know there are things wrong with it, because if my writing was perfect then publishers would be lining up to get the rights to my stories and I'd be a multi-millionaire.  (Man, wouldn't that rock?  I wish my life WAS actually like that.)  And since a) I know my story has problems, and b) I have such a huge ego, flames aren't going to hurt my feelings.  In fact, a few flames would cheer me up.  Wow, this is going to be really long, I can see it already.  Droit de Seigneur.  Actually, I've taken three years of French.  I'm not a professional, but I don't suck at it by any means.  And I actually knew what seigneur meant, once I thought about it.  But yes, I did kind of ignore that.  Sorry.  But once you got all huffy about it, I decided to steal your thunder and really make you mad, just for the heck of it.  I looked it up in my French to English dictionary.  But now I completely don't get it.  Right of lord?  Duty of lord?  What does that have to do with anything?  Yes, I babble too.  Often.  I'm glad someone doesn't get mad about my short chapters.  Cliffies—I'm afraid I do those naturally.  Thanks, I did have fun on my trip.  And I'm afraid I can't ignore school.  All of the back to school stuff everywhere kind of destroys my illusion of freedom.  I mean, you're watching TV and pretending you have nothing to worry about when you suddenly see a back to school commercial, and then you get all depressed.  Plus, school starts next week for me.  I'm so sad.  Abiento, mon amie.  (What do you do about that?  You can't really say ma amie.  Nor can you say m'amie.  I know.  We'll say ma copine.  That resolves the issue quite nicely without intimating that you're a guy.)

Loopee:  Dang, I was wrong.  Capitol is a word.  I was right about that.  I just looked it up in the dictionary.

capital:  (several different definitions, including…)  a town or city that is the official seat of government in a political entity

capitol: the building in which a legislature meets  (see, I got confused.  Then it says, "see Usage Note at capital")

Usage: The term for a town or city that serves as a seat of government is capital.  The term for the building in which a legislative assembly meets is capitol.

So you see, we were both right, although you were more correct than I.

Opal-dragon:  You can have your quagmire.  My new favorite word is librarian.  Or maybe barbarian.  ::ducks glare of death, and then dives for cover, preferably a foxhole, to escape the avenging Teri on a rampage::  I surrender!  ::waves white flag::  I was just kidding!   I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist.  Sorry about your burn.  That must bite.  And Teri, it's not me that makes the chapters short.  I don't do it on purpose.  It just happens that way.  The story refuses to continue itself without starting a new chapter.  Ha ha, I don't have summer reading for another year.  What books did they force you to read?  Were they as bad as most books you read in school?  I will talk to you later.

**Wow, that was a lot.  I think all of those replies took me a full hour.  Thank you everybody!  Come review more, and I will spend another hour replying to your comments!  Flames welcome, but be specific!**


	11. Late Night Encounters

**Author's Note:  This chapter is posted in commemoration of my dear departed freedom, which passed on this morning at 7:27 when I was forced to board a long yellow hearse as my liberty was brutally slaughtered in front of me.  ::depressing funereal dirge plays gloomily in the background::  I'd like all present to observe a moment of silence, in respect to my much-lamented liberty.  :long depressing pause::**

**Yes, I hate to say it, but I was forced to go to SCHOOL today.  Nine months of purgatory stretch in front of me.  But there is no reason for you to mourn, because today you get to read an update to my story!  Yay!  I feel better already.  My freedom may die, but my art will live on in immortality.  Yeah, right.  I wish.  But we'll pretend.**

**Anyway, you don't care about that.  I know you just want to read my story, so here we go!  Chapter Eleven!**

Chapter 11:  Late-Night Encounters

Alanna slipped out of her room in the castle and headed toward the wing the visiting squires were housed in.  She had extracted the location of Thom's room out of one of the servants.

She moved stealthily down the hall, and then stopped as she heard another pair of boots padding down the corridor.  "Who's there?" she whispered.

"Thom?" asked Jonathan's voice.  Alanna frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"I would think you'd have figured that out.  Are you coming with me?"

Alanna stepped into the small pool of light from the lantern hanging in the wall.  Jonathan started.

"You're not Thom."

"No," Alanna said softly.  "You know me as Kalan."  She paused for a moment.  "You should not go to the City alone."  The Prince said nothing, waiting for her reaction.  "I'll go with you," the girl told him.  The Prince scoffed.

"You?  You're a girl!"

"So?" Alanna asked coolly.  "I know as much magic as any Bazhir shaman, and I can take on any warrior in my tribe.  If you insist, I can prove it, although I'd rather not; that would be a waste of time and energy."  Jonathan considered this.

"All right, you can come, but don't slow me down."

Alanna laughed recklessly.  "It'll be the other way around, northern boy."

*************************************************************************************************************************** 

**Yes, I know it's short, but deal with it.  Next chapter will appear sometime next week.  Now, to reply to my reviews!**

Ice-otter/Redmountain:  No, you haven't.  I've missed you and your reviews.  I'm glad to see you're back.  : )

AngelFantasy:  Thank you!  And don't mention it: I love reading and reviewing your story.

Athena Masterson:  ::grins::  Hey, compliments!  That cheered me up from my partial gloom and doom.  If the sequel wants to be written, I promise you it will include George.  Word of honor.  Hey, but when you reviewed four days ago, you said you'd have a chapter up in the next day or so.  What happened to the update?  Was it abducted by the evil pixie who haunts FF.Net?  (No relation to punkpixie87, or course.)  If it was, I will absolve you of guilt, but if it wasn't…  Grrrrr.  No reneging!  Update!

Barranilwen:  Well, you did eventually review, and that's what's important.  Although there were three people who didn't—I'm three reviews down.  ::tear::  ::wipes eyes::  Hey, but you DID, so I'm happy.  Ah, but I'm afraid their meeting has been delayed unexpectedly.  Trips to the Black City tend to interrupt things, don't they.  ::grin::

Karina:  Thank you!  ::grins::  But I'm afraid Thom is going to have to wait to find out, at least for now.  I still haven't decided exactly how he's going to find out, but I think Alanna took precautions that her hair dye wouldn't wash out, so it probably won't be that.  Anyway, thanks for reviewing!

Opal-dragon:  Hey, that's not fair!  Update, you meanie!  Oh, ha ha, you were kidding.  ::big sigh of relief::  Writer's block, huh?  Let me see if I can encourage your muse to surface by quoting Ronald Reagan.  Teri's muse, "tear down this wall!"  Ha!  The Berlin wall went down, so you will that big thing blocking your inspiration.  So write!  And update!  I command you!  When is George coming in?  Hmm, let me think.  HE'S NOT!  That was hard.  I know you love him, but deal with his absence.  He will appear in the sequel, if we end up writing it.  Okay?  Happy?  Good.  Now it's your turn to UPDATE!

DivaBear:  Thank you!  I really appreciate that.

Keziah:  Umm, I actually didn't think about the purple eyes thing, so I blindly rendered them blind to it as well.  Sorry.  Maybe sometime I'll go back and have Thom notice it, and have déjà vu, or something.  You know, fun stuff like that.  But I don't know that I will, so don't hold your breath.

Elspeth:  Thank you!  That sends a warm fuzzy feeling all over.  : )

Katie Carr:  Thanks!  Happiness is growing!

Morrigan:  You put me on your favorites list?  Warm fuzzies!  Warm, warm fuzzies!  They're multiplying like Tribbles!  (If you didn't get that, don't worry, it's a Trekkie thing.)  Umm, you meant blackmail, not bribery.  If you said, if you post the next chapter, I'll put you on my fav's list, THAT would be bribery.  You were blackmailing me by threatening to take me off your fav's list if I didn't post.  See the difference?  Bribe­­=reward, blackmail=punishment.  Simple.  Sorry, but I'm obsessive about my words, I have this COMPULSION to fix people's usages.  Sorry if that bugs you.  Man, you really are a gifted rambler.  I think you're even better than me!  Amazing.

Temptress:  Whoah, I think I might be frightened.  Cutting up blankets?  That's kind of disturbing.  Are you sure you don't have some psychological complex or something?  Right to lord—aha, like feudalism.  I see it all now.  It actually makes sense!  Wow.  Abiento…  The closest translation is probably something like, "see you later."  Did I mention that blood-curdling screams cause my blood to curdle?  Well, that is, if I'm not deafened first.  Yes, I'm afraid school is here, and it won't go away.  ::sobs brokenly for a few seconds, and then stops::  But I wrote a obituary type thing for my lost liberty, so at least it hasn't given me really major writer's block.  Thank god, I can still create!  By the way, naming fluffy bugs is not a good habit to get into.  I hope you know that.

ThePenMage:  How many books do I own?  Several hundred, I'm sure.  Hey, I looked up who Meron is.  He's Lord Holder of Nabol, and he is most memorable by his infamous fire lizard egg scam in Dragondrums.  Aren't I smart?  The fire-lizard thing you said triggered my memory, and I went and found him in Dragondrums.  I don't remember if he's in Dragonquest—that's almost the only Pern book I don't actually own, so I don't know that one as well.  He definitely could be, though.  GEORGE IS NOT GOING TO BE IN THIS STORY!  HE'S NOT GOING TO MAGICALLY APPEAR IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DESERT, OKAY?  OKAY?  HE'S NOT GOING TO BE IN THIS STORY!  GET OVER IT!  Sorry, but you're about the fifth person who's asked me about George this chapter, so I'm kind of like, ah.  And yes, more Jon bashing next chapter.  Alanna has only just begun.  ::evil chuckle::  

Allure:  Ah, dramatic sighs.  Those're good.  My grandma lives in Salem, so if you live there too, you might actually know her.  Wouldn't that be freaky?  I'd be freaked.  But it'd be cool too.  Anyway, Oregon's cool.  We like Oregon.****

**Guys, I'm all sad, because reviews went down by three since the chapter before.  ::sniffles::  Now I'm all sad and depressed, with that on top of the damper of school.  ::tear::  Review extra long this chapter and cheer me up, please!  I wouldn't want to be super gloom and doom and be too depressed to post the next chapter.**


	12. The Black City

**Author's Note:  Hey, I updated!  Although, for the record, I am officially crabby, because I am two reviews down from Chapter 10.  ::glares at everyone who didn't review::  If you haven't reviewed, let me encourage you (aka, coerce you) to REVIEW!  REVIEW OR FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!  And a special glare for a person I know READ my chapter, but didn't bother to review it.  And who STILL hasn't updated.  ::cough, OPAL-DRAGON, cough::**

**But I'm cheering up now.  You guys will all be happy with me (right now, that is, ::mysterious and evil chuckle:: ) because this chapter in normal text is FIVE ENTIRE PAGES LONG!  FIVE!  Isn't that amazing?  It's really long.  Really, really long.  That's twice as long as my longest chapter previously, so you people should be impressed.  I've written entire stories shorter than this chapter.  But anyway.  ::does Vulcan hand thingy::  Read long and review!  ::people stare at her blankly::  You know, like in Star Trek…  ::more blank stares::  Never mind.**

Chapter 12:  The Black City

There was no sand in the Black City, no dust—nothing to show that centuries had passed since people lived there.  There was nothing but hard obsidian pavement that shone eerily in the harsh sun.  The alien buildings—beautifully and carefully carved—rose without break from the rock of the streets.  If any tower was not part of the mass of rock beneath their feet, they did not find it.  The city rose like a cluster of needles stabbing into the bright azure sky.

"It's beautiful," Alanna said with approval when they were just inside the gate.  "We've seen it, now let's go back."  She remembered suddenly the vision she had seen of a black city.  Reality seemed eerily familiar.  Was she meant to be here?  Well if she was, she wasn't too happy about it.  She hated these stupid destiny things.  The Bazhir belief in the Balance had always driven her insane.  Destiny.  Hah.  What a daft thing to have to deal with.

"You can go," the prince replied, running a hand over a carving.  "I'm looking around some more."  Alanna sighed in frustration and suppressed anger.

"This is not a safe place.  We shouldn't stay here," she told him, trying to keep her cool.

"Then why are you still here?" the prince asked her caustically.  Alanna glared daggers at him.  Stupid royal moron.

"Because if you get yourself killed, it won't reflect well on the Bazhir," Alanna told him venomously.  "Your royal father could go on rampage in our desert."  After four years, Alanna considered herself a member of the tribe.  Jonathan grinned wickedly at her.

"Well then, you'll just have to keep an eye on me, won't you?"

Alanna groaned in vexation and followed him.  They walked silently, peering into echoing buildings while the noon sun beat down on their heads.  The great towers were bare of everything—furniture, cloth, glass—except the carving that covered the entire city.

Alanna examined these carvings with care.  They showed strange animals and stranger people: men with heads of lions, women with bird's wings, great cats with human faces.  Alanna had never seen anything like it.  Now that she had, she wished she hadn't.

"I don't see bodies or skeletons," Jonathon whispered.  "Those young Bazhir probably just took off for the cities."

"Then why are you whispering?" she asked challengingly.  Her voice was equally soft, though infused with curbed rage.

The Prince looked around, searching the windows and doorways.  "I'm not sure— Yes, I am.  This place is evil.  Whatever has or hasn't happened here, the city is still evil, through and through."

"At least you admit that much," Alanna commented.  Her voice was a mixture of fear and sarcasm, if such a thing was possible.  Sarcasm was the more dominant emotion.  She was still mad.  As they ventured deeper and deeper into the city, she kept a close watch on the doors and windows around them.  Her anger was fading, and this place was making her edgy.  It just wasn't natural.

They turned a sharp corner, and the city's central square lay before them.  It was a wide, flat reach of stone, carefully polished and yet reflecting no light from its surface.  It was as if the stone itself absorbed the rays.  It took all of Alanna's nerve to step onto it, but step she did.  The building in the center of the square called to her.  Its sides were columns of plain black stone.  The roof separated itself from the columns with a border of carving covered with gold.  Topping a long rise of stairs, great doors beckoned.

She and the prince climbed up to the doors, feeling smaller and smaller as they progressed.  The doors stood open and waiting.  Like the stone of the city, the black wood of the doors was covered with exotic pictures.  The edges of the carvings were etched with gold, so that rays were reflected and magnified as the light played over them.

When they reached the doors, Lightning began humming, its hilt trembling in Alanna's hand.  "My sword—" she stammered to her companion.

"Hmm?"  The Prince was eyeing the doors.

"I don't think we should go in—my sword is—it's _humming_."

Jonathan shook his head.  "I'm going to find out what's going on."  He stepped inside the temple.

Alanna tightened her grip on her sword hilt and followed.  "Idiot prince," she snapped as she caught up with him.  "Someone has to save your royal hide."  The crack fell somewhat flat as her voice trembled on the last word.

The prince didn't reply.  She guessed it was because he didn't trust his voice to behave itself, either.

They walked forward slowly, their hands on their sword hilts.  There were no windows or torches, but a weird yellow-green light came from somewhere inside.  The walls were carved from glassy stone, catching the light and making it ripple along their surfaces.  At the end of the chamber was a large block of dark material that swallowed the light without reflecting it.

"The altar," the prince whispered.

The light moved in a blinding wave across the room.  When the eyes of the two humans cleared, ten men and women were standing in front of the altar.  Even the smallest of the women was taller than Halef Seif, and they were all so beautiful that it hurt to look at them for very long.  Their power flared and rippled around their bodies in a flash of green light.

"It has been so long," a woman in scarlet said with a sigh.  "And they are so small."

One woman stretched out a hand to them.  Her fingernails were long and red, like claws.  "Feel the life in them, Ylira.  It is a flame.  These two will be enough for us all."

Alanna edged closer to Jonathan's side.  Pompous jerk he may be, but at least he was human.  Lightning was trembling in her grip.  "This was _your_ idea," she muttered to the prince.

"Who are you?" Jonathan demanded of the strangers.  His voice was clear and calm.  He showed no sign of fear.  Alanna wondered how he managed it.

"They speak," a man-being sneered.  "And look at the little one.  It will hit us with its sword."

The beings—the Nameless Ones—laughed.  Alanna shivered at the cruelty in the sound.  The largest of the men waved a careless hand.  He was broad-shouldered and black-bearded, a giant even among these creatures.  "Your mortal weapons will not harm us," he boomed.  "We are the Ysandir.  We are immortal.  Our flesh is not like yours.."

"You cannot keep us here," Jonathan replied steadily.

"We are hungry."  The clawed woman's eyes glittered.  "We have not fed for one of your years.  The goatherders are too good at keeping their young from us."

A woman with hair whiter than snow purred, "He thinks his father the king will hunt for us and destroy us."

They laughed.  Alanna wanted to put her hands over her ears and shut out the dreadful sound, but she forced herself to remain still, moving her feet so she would be totally balanced when the attack came.

The black-bearded one smiled.  "I am Ylon, chief of the Ysandir.  I have fed on hundreds of your mortal lives.  Let your father bring his armies.  We will feed on their souls, and we will be strong.  We will break the curse of fire the Bazhir put on this place."

Jonathan took a deep breath.  "I don't need my father's soldiers.  I am going to leave here, and you are not gong to keep me."

"Listen to the princeling!" mocked the red-clawed woman.  "How you roar, young lion!  And your tame kitty mewls!"

"I will not be insulted so!" Alanna cried angrily.  A _kitten,_ was she?  She drew Lightning in one swift movement.  The crystal on the hilt blazed out, throwing a harsh light into the darkness around them.  The Ysandir shrank back against the altar, trying to keep the light from their eyes.

"So.  You come armed with _their_ weapons," Ylon said.  "But can you use them?"

"Ylanda," said Ylira, the woman in red.  "I cannot see into this one's mind.  It is hiding something.  Where did you get that sword?" she snapped, staring at Alanna.

"None of your business!" Alanna replied, focusing on the red-gowned being. For a second she felt a touch in her mind, like claws raking through her head.  She yelled.  Lightning flashed, and the woman with claws—Ylanda—collapsed against the altar.  She was gasping for breath.

"Don't give them an opening like that again," Jonathan warned.  Already the air around him was shimmering with blue light.  Alanna brought up her own shield of violet magic, keeping Lightning outside—just in case. 

"I didn't plan to give them that one," she murmured.

Ylanda had gotten her breath back.  Suddenly she was laughing.  The others watched her.  "In all my centuries," she gasped finally, "I have not known such a jest.  Young lion—see your companion for what she really is!"

Before Alanna could bring Lightning's crystal up, power from Ylanda and Ylon smashed into her defenses, breaking through.  She doubled over in pain.  It was over as swiftly as it began, with one difference.  She was no longer wearing her comfortable burnoose.  She was attired in a dainty noble's gown, with satin slippers and a veil over her once-again copper hair.  Alanna swore.

"Dammit, I hate dresses."

"Thom?" Jon gasped in amazement.

"No, Alanna, you dimwit.  Alanna of Trebond, Thom's twin sister."

Jon's jaw dropped in shock as he stared at her.  "But you're dead!"

"Obviously, I'm not!" Alanna replied angrily, rattled.  She looked down at her dress and grunted in disgust.  "I can't fight in this idiotic get-up."  She slashed at the hem, ripping off good six inches of length, and all of the heavy petticoats.  Alanna looked up.  Jon was staring incredulously at her, enemies forgotten.

"What, am I some kind of freak show?" she snapped.  "Shut your mouth before something falls into it."  He snapped his jaw closed.  She darted a glance at the Ysandir.  They were snickering nastily with Ylanda, but they could easily start something any minute.  "We don't have time for this," she muttered to the prince.  The one called Ylira laughed scornfully.

"A noble lady who tries to protect her prince!  How touching!"  Alanna glared pure hate and held up Lightning's crystal, letting its light burn into their eyes.  The crystal flared, and she shouted, "I may be a lady, but I can fight as well as any warrior!"

Ylon's booming voice pulled their attention to him.  "Separate them."

Instinctively Alanna grabbed Jonathan's hand.  Sapphire and amethyst power collected at their intertwined fingers.

"The Wall of Power," the prince hissed.  "What's the spell?"

Alanna started the verses.  Jon's voice joined hers, the words thundering in the great chamber.  Slowly a wall of blue-violet light rose between them and the Ysandir.  The immortals covered their eyes, unable to look at it for long.  They retreated.

"You defy us?" Ylon cried.  "Pay the price, mortals!"

Tearing pain shot through their joined hands.  "Don't let them part us," Jon said.  He held on so tightly Alanna's bones creaked.  She ignored the pain, keeping her mind on the Wall.  The Ysandir came closer.  Furious, they threw bolts of power at their prey.  Jon and Alanna concentrated, bringing up all their will power to keep their defenses strong.  The Wall stood.  Two immortals touched it and screamed.  They vanished with a flash.

"So you _can_ die," Alanna taunted.  "You _can_ feel pain."

"How long do you think she will last?" Ylira asked Jonathan softly.  "Another few moments?  She is a noble girl.  She is weak.  She will give way, and then where will you be?"

It was the same things that the tribe's warriors had said to Alanna at first, before she proved her ability in combat; the same taunting voice that made itself known in the back of her mind, undermining her self-confidence.  But this time Alanna wasn't panicky, she was enraged.  No one was going to belittle her abilities one more time!

"You think so?" she shouted furiously.  "Then try _this_ on for size!"

A slender thread of violet fire snaked through the wall, wrapping around Ylira's throat and tightening.  The immortal did not even have a chance to scream before she fell to the ground and vanished.

Alanna didn't have time to gloat.  Three women joined hands to form a deadly looking triangle.  Power collected at the center of their formation in a small, evil ball.

"Highness?" Alanna whispered.  This kind of magic had no connection to anything she had learned from Umar Komm.  She hoped Jonathan knew a way to counter it.

Jonathan spoke, using words she had never heard before.  Alanna felt her own magic flowing into her companion's body.  It was an eerie feeling, but Alanna didn't try to resist; she trusted Jonathan, short acquaintance or not.  Slowly the prince reached through the Wall.  Magic lanced from his fingertips, shattering the triangle.  Alanna blinked, trying to clear her eyes of the blaze that had been the three Ysandir.

Five remained.  The redheaded woman and the brunette with the hungry eyes screamed and threw themselves on the Wall.  They blazed and vanished.  The others drew back.

Alanna remembered something.  "Highness—fire?" she hissed.

"Of course," he whispered.  Together Alanna and Jon whispered a fire-spell, the right words somehow planting themselves in her mind and flowing out of her mouth.  She knew this spell was not one that she had learned, but she didn't question it; it simply _was_.

"Ylon!" cried one of the two male Ysandir remaining.  Fire roared up outside the Wall, reaching with eager fingers for the one who cried out.  He screamed and disappeared, the fire vanishing with him.

Only two remained of the Ysandir: Ylon and Ylanda.  Alanna gulped.  These two had joined hands, and power gathered to them.

_"Ak-hoft!"_ Ylon cried.  The Wall vanished as if it had never been.

"The others were weak and greedy," sneered Ylon.  "We are not."

"We are the First," Ylanda added.  "We were here before all the others.  We shall remain."

"Who are you?" Jonathan asked, trying to catch his breath.  Alanna wiped her sweat-beaded face on her sleeve.  She was tired, so tired her bones ached.

"We are gods and the children of gods," the woman said.  "We were here before your Old Ones, and we laughed when their cities fell."

Alanna felt a return of her old spirit.  "A likely story," she said with a sniff.  "Gods don't die.  You do."

"You think you know all, mortal.  You know nothing.  Even immortals die when they weaken.  Ylanda and I are the strongest.  You will not weaken us."

"You're very good at pretending you're invincible," Alanna retorted coolly.  "Somehow, though, I don't really believe you."

"Give up," the prince said.  Jonathan's voice was even and strong. "Your time is past.  You no longer belong here."

Ylon and Ylanda raised their linked hands, chanting in a weird language that made the two humans shudder.  Outside thunder crashed.  The eerie glow that lit the temple vanished.  The only light now came from their magics.

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**Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!  Evil cliffie.  I know, I know, you hate me.  But this cheers me up immensely, I can't tell you how much it makes me happy.  I love this cliffhanger.  It's such an excellent cliffhanger.  ::gazes adoringly at cliffhanger for a while::  But anyway.  Reviews must be replied to.  Here we go!**

Barranilwen:  Long enough for you?  But is it not exciting that I updated?  Are you not thrilled?  Anyway, if you didn't like the last chapter, I can promise you that you'll like the next one even less.  ::evil smile::

Daemon:  I like your pen name.  May I theorize that you're into Philip Pullman?  Aha, I see by your bio that you are.  Well, good for you.  Philip Pullman is cool.  Although the end of The Amber Spyglass really depressed me.  : (  Anyway, thanks for your happy review.  ::grins::

LadyoftheRogue:  As you see, I have indeed written more.  I hope that made you happy.  Except the cliffie probably made you mad, but it was supposed to.  Yes, that's right.  I did that to all of you on purpose.  As for George, see big bold note at the bottom.

Allure:  Yeah, I wish get out of school free cards actually existed.  That would make my life.  Wow.  ::contemplates the awesome possibility for a second::  If only my life was like a game of Monopoly…

Morrigan:  ::chuckles at the excellent and entertaining rambles::  Yeah, I know.  I write wrong words for things too.  I am sorry for assuming you so silly as to not know the difference.  ::makes repentant face::  Anyway, I hope you like this long chapter.  But I'm afraid you won't like the next one…  ::chuckles evilly to herself::

Karina:  The chapter is up!  ::cheers wildly, and then realizes that every one else is silent, and stops with an embarrassed laugh::  Thank you thank you thank you for all the nice things you said.  That makes me happy.  ::grins::

Athena Masterson:  Yes, I am depressed about school.  On top of other, review-deficit-related issues.  But anyway.  I will survive.  Well, boot camp, yeah, I think that would be a bit nerve-racking.  But you wanted to do it, right?  Otherwise you wouldn't have gone to that school.  I know all about college applications now, because my sister is in the midst of finding schools, and making college visits, and taking her ACTs and SATs.  Anyway, I hope all your family problems are all better now.

Nanook997:  Writer's block.  The bane of all good writers everywhere.  Yes, writer's block must surely be your terrible problem.  You have my sympathies.  And you were close.  It's consequence.  You just had an extra letter in there.

Temptress:  Oops, about the abiento thing, it's A bientot.  You just don't say the T.  Anyway.  Sorry about your hack.  That must really disturb you when you're trying to be evil and menacing.  I'm so sorry.  Not.  ::laughs evilly::  Mwahahahahahahahaha  :cough:: hahahahaha ::cough, hack:: hahahahahahahaha ::cough, hack, hack, hack::  Oh man!  It must be contagious!  Yes, I'm sure your fluffy bugs are excellent fluffy bugs.  It's just a bit frightening that a) you have them, and b) you named them.  That's all.  You can name them all you want, but it's still quite frightening.  Yes, she does think Jon will be bad.  He's a wimpy coddled prince to her.  Did you enjoy the Jon bashing, or are you one of those who isn't so big on that?  Anyway, thanks for all your comments.  ::starts to laugh evilly, than remembers the hack, and stops::

Sir/Lady Loose Associations:  What is the origin of your pseudonym?  It's really cool.  Thanks for your review!

Lady Arianna:  Thank you, that is exactly why I had her run away!  Now, let me answer all your questions.  Time to use the cut and paste keys.  : )  "is she ever gonna tell thom that she is still alive?"  Yes.  "is she gonna end up with george?"  Most likely, but maybe someone else.  But definitely not Jon.  I am anti A/J.  They could never be happy together.  "is faithful gonna come into the picture?"  Yes, I think so, eventually.  "is myles gonna adopt thom instead of alanna?"  Haven't decided yet.  Your questions are not stupid, they are excellent questions.  I like it when people ask questions.  Opal-dragon's Alanna stories are entitled "Man of the Tribe" and "The Lady Lioness".  I like "Man of the Tribe" better, but they're both good.  To make it easier for you, just click on my profile and go to my Favorite Author's list.  Opal-dragon's there, you can read all of her good stuff.  She also has a really good short story called "The Glass Child" that is kind of cool and supernatural.

Keziah:  Lucky.  But you've started school now.  Ha ha.  You get to join me in the depressed ranks of school-goers and homework-doers.  Poor us.  Thank you for your comments about Alanna's various identities.  They're good, they help me.

Elspeth:  I'm sorry, this wasn't very soon, was it.  Oh well.  It's really long, so that should make you happy.

Crown:  Aha, but you will have to wait.  It is inevitable.  I like long intervals, it garners me more reviews for the chapter.

Bblond07:  Thank you!  You made me happy.  ::grins::

ThePenMage:  Where do I get that stuff?  I made it up on the bus back after my first day of school, as I was feeling horribly unhappy about actually having to go back to school.  I'm going to steal your thing and go ***  Alanna and Thom are twins, and they're not THAT old yet.  When you're younger, girl's and guy's voices can sound really similar.  But since they're twins, the timber of their voices is relatively similar, and contributes to why everyone at Trebond couldn't tell them apart.  If their voices were a lot different, it'd be easy, wouldn't it?  ***  She is a smart person.  She's figured out where he's going, because of all the unusual interest he showed in the Black City with Ali Mukhtab, and the fact that he's dressed for a ride in the desert.  See?  Not THAT hard. ***  Haha, you thought last chapter was short.  ::gags herself before she says anything else, because she wants it to be a surprise, even thought you've probably already guessed::  But this chapter actually is extra long.  It compensates for the shortness of last chapter.  ***  I have lots of shelf space.  My bookshelves tower from floor to ceiling, and all the books that don't fit there go live in the basement.  Those're mostly the ones I don't really read anymore, though.  I have a lot, because I spend most of my allowance on books, see, because there's only so much good fantasy at the library.  ***  Ah, you see, I own practically all of Anne McCaffrey's books.  They take up a shelf-section thingy and a half, because there's ::goes to count:: 49.  But we'll assume a little over fifty, because chances are I have some that aren't currently on my shelf.  Sometimes I put books in very random places.  But really, you'd be surprised how many books fit on one shelf.  Several hundred is quite possible.  ***  It IS A/G, we make fun of Jon.  George will appear in the sequel, if I ever write it.  So don't kick up a fuss.  Anyway, thank you for your wonderfully long review.  ::grins::

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**All righty, now, time to review.  And oh yeah.  GEORGE IS NOT IN THIS STORY.  ALANNA WILL NOT MEET GEORGE IN THIS STORY.  GEORGE DOES NOT APPEAR IN THIS STORY.  THIS STORY DOES NOT INCLUDE GEORGE.  GEORGE IS NOT A CHARACTER IN THIS STORY.  END OF STORY.  Sorry to do that to you, but about ten thousand people have said, "When is George appearing?", so I am telling you now, so you will not be tempted to write that so over-asked question.  Now, REVIEW!  I'll take forever to update this cliffie if I don't feel loved and encouraged by all my wonderful reviewers…**


	13. Fatalism

**Author's Note:  I'm SO sorry.  I know you guys REALLY REALLY wanted to read the next chapter, but even though I finally found my copy of _Alanna_, I'm still having MAJOR writer's block on tbe next chapter.  I'm afraid it might be a while until I get it up.  So, here's my offering.  Please don't hurt me when you're done reading it.  ::winces unhappily at probable reader's reactions::  I'm sorry, I know I'm terrible!**

Chapter 13: Fatalism

Alanna bit her lip.  She might make light of the Ysandir's abilities, but they still were formidable.  Mocking conversation had bought them some time, but she was no closer to a solution.  Attired in a ridiculous ball gown, the only familiar thing that brought her comfort was the weight of Lightning sheathed at her side.

Jonathan shifted beside her.  "Alanna, I don't know how to defeat magic like this."  He spoke in a low voice, close to her ear, so that only Alanna could hear him.  "I need your help.  Have you learned anything from your time in the desert that could help us stop them?  Anything at all?"

Alanna closed her eyes.  She had no idea what to do.  The Bazhir were big on their Balance.  They accepted things like this.  She never had.  Umar Komm once told her that she was a tool of the gods—one who changed the Balance.  If she was, she was about to change the Balance for the worse, because Alanna and Jonathan were about to die.__

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Yes, that's it.  I'm really sorry!  Really, really, really sorry!  My muse (irritating, fickle, ABSENT thing) robbed me of all my ideas and high-tailed it off to Mexico.  It sent me a post card (the CHEEK of that muse) saying it was really nice in Cancun, and I should go hang out there some time.  It also refuses to answer my calls and tell me when it's coming back.

**And I was going to do all of my reviewer replies, but I really have too much homework right now, so I'm afraid you'll have to wait for the next chapter.  I'll catch up on them then, I promise!  Well, review, just don't verbally burn me at the stake, I already feel bad enough about it.**


	14. Unexpected Resources

Author's Note:  I have conquered the eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeevvviiillllllll bane of the writer's existence.  Nevermore shall I suffer under the yoke of curbed creativity!  I have killed the beast!  ::thinks about this for a second::  Well, maybe I haven't destroyed the dams of my creative channels forever, but it'll be a while before they dare show their ugly faces around here again.  ::glares at writer's blocks::

Yes, this is my new chapter!  Whooppeeee!  I finally wrote it, and here it is for your reading enjoyment!  Read on, dear readers!

Chapter 14: Unexpected Resources 

Alanna bit her lip and opened her eyes again.  Her mind was still completely blank.  The two Ysandir laughed nastily.

"Don't know what to do, little mortal child?"  They'd finished their chanting and now were simply waiting to humiliate their victims as much as possible before crushing them like a bug.  "Maybe you should go home to your mother, like the weak little girl you are."

Alanna glared pure hate.  "You may be about to kill me," she snarled, "but if you do, I'm going to scream my way back to life and vanquish your demonic hide into the after-afterlife, so help me Goddess.  And you will _never_ get me to cry home to my mother!"

The immortals cackled even louder at Alanna's outburst.  Through an angry red haze, something in Alanna's mind clicked.  _So help me Goddess, cry home to my mother…  _The Great Mother Goddess!

_"This is no ordinary sword…"_ spoke a voice out of memory.

Alanna suddenly grinned, a threateningly feral smile.  "Highness," she whispered.  "I know what to do.  Take care of our shields.  I'll do the rest."  She gave the last of her magic to her companion and drew her sword.  The blade flashed in the magical light and the crystal blazed a clear bright white-amethyst.  The two Ysandir drew back and hissed at the crystal's glow.

"Like to challenge me, Ylon?  It should be easy to beat a weak little girl, right?"  Alanna taunted the male Ysandir.  He snarled and a black, two-edged blade appeared in his hand.  Like the altar, the sword absorbed all light, sucking up the brilliance of Lightning's crystal.

Ylon stepped forward, Ylanda a step behind him, still grasping his hand.  The dark blade shrieked down through the air in a ferocious arc.  Alanna brought her sword up to block the strike, arm muscles screaming as she stopped the down-sweeping blade.  Lightning blazed, and miraculously, did not break.  The dark sword drank in Lightning's fire as Ylon backed away, Ylanda retreating a step behind him.  His big chest was heaving, and there was perspiration on his face.

Alanna circled him, eyes never leaving his body.  Her perception narrowed to the sheen of the blade in his hand, the strain of muscles in his abdomen.  She disregarded the prince's encouraging squeeze, the evil chanting of Ylanda in the background.  All that mattered was the weapon in Ylon's hand.

He struck at her again; Alanna easily deflected the blow, her confidence increasing.  His strike was clumsy, his strategy flawed.  He was sweating profusely, and some of it bore the unmistakable tang of fear-sweat.  He may have been immortal, but he was definitely no swordsman.

The prince was speaking softly behind her, uttering unfamiliar syllables she paid no attention to.  The fire surrounding him and Alanna blazed, and the girl yelled with triumph.  She swung Lightning up and around in a complex move that brought the swords together, hilt to hilt.  The black sword shattered with the impact.

Alanna slashed at the immortals' linked hands.  The globe of sickly yellow-green light exploded, and the two Ysandir screamed with rage and fear.  The prince uttered a word of command, throwing the last of their magical reserves into the spell.  Blue-violet light flooded over the immortals.  They flared up like giant twin torches as everything went black.

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Whooppeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!  I have lots and lots of reviewers to reply to!  Ain't that grand?  It shouah is.  (Translation:  Isn't that great?  Darn right it is.)  Let's get to work on all my happy review replies!  Here we go…

Neona:  How do you know I won't kill Alanna and Jonathan?  Oh wait, ha ha.  You read this chapter.  But they could still die.  The blackness could be death.  They could be dead.  But if it was, I wouldn't say that, now would I?  ::thinks about this for a minute, then gives up and scratches head::  I don't know.  I might.  But maybe I wouldn't.  But maybe I would…

Keziah:  Indeed, writer's block is the pits.  But I have slaughtered the beast!  It's dead!  Dead dead dead!  Mwahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Starfire:  As you see, I have added more, but I'm afraid it will not be A/J.  I've already stated my reasons why it won't.  I'm sorry if you're upset about that, but I just can't see her with him.  They're not meant to be.  I hope the Jon bashing doesn't make you unhappy, but it's just so much fun to write.  I derive such enjoyment from it.

Temptress:  Wow, you could write a nine-step plan for vanquishing writer's block.  You've got mad skills.  But actually, my blockage was specific to this chapter.  I even knew what was going to happen, but I just couldn't find the words.  I had the whole thing planned out, but I couldn't make it flow, so I didn't write it, because I was sure it would be bad if I forced it.  It always is.  But I have killed the beast, and now the chapter's up!  ::cheers wildly and dances around::

Morrigan:  ::stares in slack-jawed amazement at the sheer volume of that review::  Holy crap!  Don't DO that to me!  Long does not mean never-ending, Morrigan!  Long means under a page, if put into twelve point font and pasted into a word processor program.  For experimental purposes I copied your review and pasted it into Microsoft word, put it in 12 point and Times New Roman, and checked the pages.  TWENTY-FOUR PAGES, MORRIGAN!  TWENTY-FOUR!  And then, to further illustrate my point, I just deleted all the useless blank lines.  That reduces it to only three.  Now we'll get rid of all the pointless meanderings.  That makes it eleven lines, which is what your review SHOULD have been.  Yes, I like long reviews, but only when they include stuff of substance.  Pointless ramblings completely irrelevant to anything and everything is NOT my idea of a review.  ::glares::  I hope you've learned your lesson.

Barrannilwen:  Haha.  Senior year.  I'll bet you're having fun filling out college applications and everything.  My sister's having a terrible time with them.  She filled out one application about twenty times because she kept messing up.  Pathetic, ne?  But studying is so much unfunness.  Like me, I have a lot of pointless homework due tomorrow, (tomorrow being Monday) that I haven't even started.  The only thing I've done this weekend related to school is to wash my gym uniform.  It's going to really suck once I decide to start doing it.

Lady Arianna:  What Bazhir dude?  You mean Itar, one of the other apprentices?  He's too much of a little boy.  I definitely don't think she'll end up with him.  I don't know who the someone else will be, she could easily end up with George too.  I have no idea yet.  Her love life is currently nonexistent.  Don't worry, it would be very hard to get me to stop writing.  You'd have to be my math teacher to be able to do it.  (God, I HATE her.  What kind of sadist gives homework the very DAY she gave an impossible test, which, by the way, I got a 67% on.  Grrrrrrrr, I hate her.  But that's beside the point.)  I think I've kind of lost the point of this answer, so I'll just stop talking now.

Bookwom:  You meant worm, right?  Or are you really a bookwom?  Well, anyway, I know I'm mean, and it was an evil cliffhangar, but it makes it all the better now that I've updated, right?

Maria:  Alanna's love life hasn't gotten started yet, and will eventually, but not in the foreseeable future, and definitely not in THIS story.  Chances are she WILL be hard to get, and that she WON'T end up with Jonathan.  I'm open to practically anyone but Jonathan.  And Roger, and Alex.  Don't like them either.  Never liked Alex.  Not even before he was evil.

Magelet:  Thank you!  That is the nicest thing I've ever gotten in a review!  ::sobs happily and tearily reaches for the Kleenex box::

Yay!  Now it's time for everybody to REVIEW!  REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


	15. Review Replies

I was going to upload this with my chapter, but there was just too much, and the reviews overwhelmed the chapter, so here are all my replies to the Chapter 12 reviews.  Here we go, everybody!

Karina:  Well, Thom didn't find out.  Actually, I'm not sure if I'm even going to write that in this book.  Possibly in the next one, if it manages to fight its way to the surface of my brain.  Thanks for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate your comments.  Hope you liked this chapter!

Dragonlady:  As I have said before SEVERAL times, George will make his debut in the sequel, if I ever end up writing it.  It will probably surface eventually, but right now it's not quite ready to leave my brain and put itself down on paper.  Wait a second, you DID realize that.  Ha ha.  I answered the wrong question.  Sorry for ranting at you.  But yes, thank you for agreeing with me.  Glad you like my story.

ThePenMage:  All right.  This will make you happy.  I went back and fixed all the things you said you didn't think Alanna would really say.  I deleted the part that was doubled, and I fixed the "don't you dare speak so to him," so that Alanna feels insulted, not righteously angry about insults to his Royal Pomposity.  (Man, I should've put that in the chapter.  Why didn't I think of that before?  Oh well.  Maybe next chapter.  But no, I can't put it there either.  Dang.)  I didn't change the freak show thing, because I couldn't think of anything better to say.  Sorry, that's still there.  You can go back and read all the revised Jon bashing if you want, but nothing I changed is really super important, so unless you feel like reveling in the dissage, you can skip it.  Ummm, yeah, I have all the Tammy books.  Almost all of the Misty books, but I'm missing probably five or six, other than the Bedlam's Bard series which I haven't even read.  I'm not sure I want to, either.  It doesn't look so good.  As for storage, I have two towers of shelves that each contain six sections.  Each section measures approximately a foot deep, a foot high, and about 20 inches across.  In each section I have two rows of books, but I also have three shelf sections containing things other than books.  Also, I have one long shelf over my desk that holds all my Shakespeare.  That is the sum total of my shelf space.  Then I have lots and lots of books in a couple of piles on the floor.  Probably if I got around to shelving all of my books I'd take up those three shelves that currently are housing assorted junk.  So yes, I have a lot of room.  My bookshelves take up half of one wall.  The sequel…it hasn't elbowed its way to the front of my brain, so right now it's just sort of simmering on the back burner.  It'll probably be moved up eventually, but I don't really know when.

Nanook992:  I REEEEEAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYYY would like to thank you for your REEEAAAALLLLLLLLLYYYY encouraging review.  ::grins::

Lilyengraved:  Thank you, that is so nice!  The fav lists, I mean.  Not the hating me part.  ::cries::  Don't hate me!  Don't worry, I'm not really THAT upset.  When I first read that I laughed gleefully at your frustration.  Now I'm not feeling quite so sadistic.

Lener:  I'm not sure if you got up this far into my story, because you didn't leave a review here, but if you HAVE, I'd like to say an emphatic thank you for your kind words.

Lener:  Ooops, you had another couple of reviews.  They were split between two pages, so I didn't see them immediately.  Anyway.  Thank you for the compliments!  ::warm fuzzy feelings::    Hey, your writing's great too.  It's just a bit tougher for you to get reviews because you don't already have an established audience.  This is my first fic, but I'm writing in an established genre, in an established kind of category, so of COURSE I have a lot of reviews.  Well, not of course.  Some of it's me, but a lot of it would be there even if my story was completely abysmal.  Anyway, thank you for reading!

Keziah:  Don't hyperventilate!  That's bad!  I rectified the cliffhangers, all is well!  Breathe!  Yay, thank you for nice happy comments!  Sequel is on the back burners, and it hasn't started to boil over to get my attention yet.  I'm not sure when it will demand to make an appearance, but I'm not going to rush it.  It's not ready yet.

Aurora:  Wow, that's the first time someone's been rendered inarticulate by my story.  Well, maybe inarticulate's not quite right.  You were just in such a frenzy you couldn't type.  That is quite something.  It gives me an ego boost.  ::grins::  How do you like my updates?  Happy?

Temptress:  No one with a hack is evil and menacing.  I'm afraid you'll have to retire into a super-villain nursing home for decrepit people with hacks who used to be evil and menacing.  Yes, I'm sure your fluffy bugs are wonderful.  I'll just lock you up in a padded room with T and M now.  Have fun!  ::reads last line with IRRITATING question about George::  Why, you--  ::chases after Temptress with murder on her mind::

Morrigan:  Thank you!  Happy happy happy, but can't think of anything to say, so you'll just have to wait until my rant next chapter's replies.

Hoppuschick182:  ::tentatively removes hands from ears::  Is she done yet?  I updated, don't deafen me!

Lady Arianna:  Man, you really have a LOT of questions.  Let me brace myself before I read them.  ::braces for inquiries' impact::  I don't know who the someone else would be, that's why I gave them no name.  Most likely, yes, she will go to the palace, unless I have a radical change of mind.  I don't know what Thom's gonnna do, I just write it down.  Possibly Alanna will end up with a noble, I don't know.  We'll have to wait and see.  I don't know if George will be made a noble, I don't even know how she's going to MEET George yet.  In fact, I know relatively nothing about the sequel right now, I haven't got it figured out yet.  Okay, you're done.  Phew.  ::wipes sweat from brow::

Neona:  You're forgiven.  Sure, I love suggestions.  They help me a lot.  Ummm, what guard?  I don't even think I have one.  I kind of skipped over that part.  It's assumed, not written.  I'm sorry about the cliff hangar, but I was sad about school, and feeling a bit sadistic, so I just needed to be a bit evil.  Ach, I wish I had less homework.  I have waaaaaayyyyy too much, and right now I should be doing it, but I'm not.  Stupid me.  I'll probably end up getting up before dawn again to finish my homework.  Wait, I have to get up before dawn anyway.  Well, before before dawn.  Anyway.  Thanks for the review!

Maria:  I remember reading a review by you this chapter, but for some obscure reason it's not currently showing up on the site, so I'll just thank you for the comments you made, although I'm not sure what they were right now.  Possibly it'll reappear later, but I will also reply to your review for the next chapter.

Lady Alanna:  Yes, I was feeling sadistic then.  I'm like that sometimes.  But as you see, I have upated!  Yay!  Twice, in fact, since that review.

Barrannilwen:  Yeah, I know I stuck pretty close to TP's words, but it was hard to do otherwise, you know?  Thanks for the review!

Daemon:  Yes, that is EXACTLY why I had that cliffie.  You must be psychic.  Indeed, hehe, Alanna in a dress is quite comical.  Happy comments, thank you!

Bblond007:  I know, aren't cliffies fun?  But I hate reading them too.  Yes, the end is swiftly approaching.  Two more chapters, and that's it.  I think.

Erilys:  I'm sorry my replies bug you, but I just HAVE to say thank you to everyone.  It's like a compulsion.  And I can't say stuff to some people and not to others.  I'd feel bad.  And while I'm at it, thank YOU for your review.  ::grins::


	16. Explanations and Ideas

**Author's Note:  I know, I know.  It was evil of me to leave you with a cliffie like that.  You are perfectly entitled to hate me, but I haven't had time to do review replies, and it's a big pain to do them separately from the chapter.  I hate doing that.  But anyway.  Here's the next chapter.  Enjoy!**

Chapter 15: Explanations and Ideas

Alanna stirred, then immediately regretted it.  Every bone in her body ached.  She felt as if she had been battered by a large iron mallet.  She couldn't stifle a tiny groan as she tried to sit up.

The girl looked around.  She was sitting on the floor of the temple.  The Ysandir were gone; they had vanished without a trace except for a black scorch mark on the obsidian floor.  She heard a pain-filled, masculine groan behind her.  She turned.

"Highness?"

She watched as he pulled himself wearily to his feet.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm smarting a little," she admitted.  Muscles she didn't know she had were screaming with pain.

"'Smarting' is an understatement," he told her.  "Come one.  I don't know what else might be loose in the City, and I don't think I want to find out."  He stumbled over to her sword and picked it up.  "It's still warm," he murmured with awe.

Alanna managed to heave herself onto her feet.  She felt as if she'd been trampled by a stampede of oxen.  She accepted her sword and sheathed it carefully in the scabbard hanging comically over her ripped-up dress.  She quirked a wry smile.

"I look pretty stupid, don't I?"

Jonathan tried to suppress a grin.  "Well…" he said.  She sighed.

"I thought so."

The prince offered her his arm.  "Let's get out of here.  We'll lean on each other."

Somehow they made it to the city walls, where Silvermoon and Jonathan's horse Darkness waited patiently for them.

Alanna pulled herself into the saddle with the last vestige of strength she possessed.  She had no wish to comment.

The prince headed east, to a small oasis they knew was nearer the Black City than Persopolis.  Alanna wasn't about to argue that they were going the wrong way; the oasis was closer than Persopolis, and all she wanted to do was lie down.

When they entered the small grove of vegetation, Alanna halted Silvermoon and practically fell out of the saddle.  It was the most she could do to loosen the girth and fix the reins so they wouldn't fall over Silvermoon's head.  Jon did the same.

The horses contentedly cropped grass while their owners stumbled over to the spring and fell onto their knees in front of the cool water.  Alanna bathed her hands and face in the refreshing liquid and then flopped with a moan onto the grass.  Jonathan lent back against a palm tree.

"I wish I'd thought to bring food," he remarked.  Alanna snorted.

"I'm grateful we're still around to be hungry."

They rested in silence for a while, watching the sun set over the desert horizon in pools of rose and orange.  The desert air was still and cool as the heat of the day faded.  Darkness came, and thousands of stars appeared in the night sky.  Alanna broke the stillness.

"I suppose you're wondering why a noble girl would end up as a member of the Bazhir."

"The thought had occurred to me."

Alanna sighed.  "It's a long story."

Jonathan shrugged.  "We have time," he said comfortably.  "I don't intend to go anywhere until I've heard it.  It's not everyday I meet one of my best friends' sisters dressed up as a Bazhir."

"I'm not 'dressed up' as a Bazhir," Alanna told him somewhat irritably.  "I _am_ a Bazhir.  They made me part of the tribe."  Jon just looked at her.

"You'd better start at the beginning," he said.  Alanna took a deep breath, and began.

"Thom and I were ten years old.  Father was going to send him to the palace, and me to the convent.  I didn't want to be a lady, and well…you know what Thom's like.  He's always wanted to be a sorcerer, and he can't stand fighting."  Jon's quiet chuckle gave her courage.  "We had this plan, to switch places.  Thom would go to the City of the Gods, I would become 'Alan' and become a page.  It almost worked."

"What happened?" the prince asked.

"Coram found out too soon.  I was going to tell him once we were halfway to Corus, but my hood fell back and Coram saw my face.  After that, it was over.  We were given a long lecture and sent off again, each to the place we didn't want to go.

"After about six months in the convent, I couldn't take it anymore.  I ran away.  My original plan was to go to Corus and find work there.  I figured Thom would be able to help me.  After a series of mishaps, I lost the road.  I had just figured out which way Corus was when that giant storm sprung up."

Jon nodded.  "I remember," he said.  Alanna continued.

"I got lost.  Very lost.  I ended up in the Great Southern Desert.  I had no water, no supplies, nothing.  I was certain I was going to die when I saw an oasis. 

"Unfortunately, a group of hillmen had the same idea.  I almost got away before they saw me."  She paused, remembering.  Jonathan waited in silence.  "I managed to get some of them with my bow, but pretty soon I ran out of arrows, and I had to run again.  When Silvermoon couldn't run anymore, I panicked and blasted them with my gift."  She laughed a little sheepishly.  "I didn't know many spells, so I just hit them with all the power I had.  That did the job, but I had overreached myself.  I think I blacked out.

"When I woke up, I was in a Bazhir tent.  Apparently I had only been a short distance from their village when I blasted those hillmen.  Anyway, the shaman said that the tribe should take me in.  He was getting on in years, and he didn't have an apprentice.  He wanted me.  The tribe adopted me, and I was made an apprentice shaman."

Jonathan frowned in puzzlement.  "Isn't that a little unusual for the Bazhir?"

Alanna nodded.  "It is.  I'm still not sure why they did it for me."

"Okay, so that's why you're a Bazhir, but what about recent history?  How come you ended up in Persopolis?  And why did you run into me?"

Alanna smiled.  "That's easy.  Umar Komm, the shaman of my tribe, sent me to Persopolis with something for Ali Mukhtab."  She had almost said the Voice, but then decided she didn't want to bother explaining the intricacies of Bazhir customs to him right now.  "You saw me in the Sunset Room, if you remember."  The prince nodded.  "Anyway, I was on my way to Thom's room to tell him who I was.  You see, he thinks I am dead.  I wanted to tell him in the Sunset Room, but it was too public.  I was halfway to his rooms when I ran into you.  I guessed, from the questions you'd been asking, that you were off to the Black City.  That place is dangerous.  I couldn't let you go alone."

The prince grinned at her.  "As I recall, you went along to keep me from endangering my royal hide."  Alanna glared.

"As _I_ recall, I didn't have much choice.  You know what the reaction would have been if you'd gotten your idiot self killed.  It could have started a war with the Bazhir," she told him furiously.

Jonathan held up his hands.  "Hey, don't bite my head off.  And I really am grateful to you.  You saved my life."

Alanna went from anger to embarrassment.  "It was nothing, Highness.  And you saved mine, too."

Jon looked skeptical.  "It was definitely not nothing.  And you don't have to call me Highness.  My friends call me Jon."

"Am I your friend, Highness?"

"I'd like to think so," he told her softly.

"Then I am."

Suddenly flustered, he abruptly changed the subject.  "You know, your dream to be a knight could still work."

"What do you mean?" Alanna asked, surprised.  She had long given up her dream to be a knight.  It just wasn't possible.

"Well," Jon said.  "You're probably at least at the level of a fourth-year squire.  You could come back to Corus with me and pretend to be a young Bazhir man I've brought back.  From one of the tribes that acknowledge the king, you know.

"We could say that you saved my life in the Black City, which you _did—_"

"Darn right, I did," Alanna interjected.  Jonathan continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"—and that you wanted to enroll in the palace as a squire.  You'd be the first Bazhir knight."

Alanna interrupted him again.  "Well, technically I'm not Bazhir.  You do realize that, don't you?"

Jonathan waved that aside.  "Doesn't matter.  You'll be Bazhir until you're knighted.  Then you can tell them who you are.  It'll be just like if you'd carried out your original plan, except you'll be Bazhir.  See?  It's perfect."

Alanna quirked a skeptical eyebrow.  "How exactly are we supposed to get me accepted as a squire at the palace?  They won't exactly be jumping for joy at the idea of an instant squire, much less a Bazhir one."

Jon dismissed that objection too.  "I'm the prince.  I have connections.  My uncle is the training master, and he'll at least listen to me.  I can't guarantee that he'll let you in, but he'll at least give you a chance.

"As for my father, he won't object.  I'll tell him you saved my life, and he'll be so grateful he'd do almost anything for you.  Letting you become a squire will be nothing."

Alanna listened to this incredulously.  He certainly had a high opinion of himself.  She didn't say anything, however, because he _was_ going to do her a big favor.  She supposed he was entitled to a bit of an overly large ego, though.  Being the prince probably did that to you.

She relaxed back against the sandy, grass-covered ground.  "We should probably get some sleep," she remarked after a long moment of silence.  Jonathan grunted.  "I'll take that as a 'yes, we should' kind of statement," Alanna said, closing her eyes.

She vaguely heard a muffled 'good night' as she drifted off into the depths of slumber.

*************************************************************************************************************************** 

**Oookay, here we go.  Lots of reviews to reply to.**

Temptress:  You WISH you were evil and menacing.  I'm not sure when the angst is going to happen.  The sequel has suddenly become sketchier, as I will explain later, and right now the angsty reunion is not included in the final chapter, which is next.  I haven't written it yet, so it'll be slow about getting itself up, but I'll do my best.  P.S.  Do bugs HAVE tongues?

Morrigan:  ::glares at the unrepentant Morrigan::  That review, if you can call that monstrosity a review, was really bugging me earlier when I was scrolling down that page.  You are by no means forgiven!  ::glares some more::  But I'm not REALLY mad at you.  Just a bit AGGRAVATED, if you know what I mean.

Maria:  Ummm, Alanna doesn't currently have any prospective pairings.  The sequel has become more ambiguous, and no romance has room in the next and final chapter.  This story, unlike many convent fics, is really about the adventure, and not the romance.  The next one will probably be a bit of both, if it ever gets there.

Bblond07:  Yes, next chapter is the end.  ::sniff::  I'm going to miss writing this story.

Lady Arianna:  Because Jon is a pompous ass.  For a more detailed explanation of my reasoning, go read my author's note in Chapter 1.  Along the lines of geometry, I hate it too.  I always manage to do two or three extra steps in my geometric proofs, thus wasting valuable homework and test-taking time.  (Dang, I hope I got at least a B on that test.  I need a good grade REALLY bad.  Cross your fingers for me.)

Barrannilwen:  I'm always afraid I'll add another extra letter in your name somewhere, but I'm too lazy to go back and check to see if I spelled it right.  If I didn't, I'm sorry.  Anyway.  Hope you liked this chapter.

ThePenMage:  If you didn't get a note, it was because you DIDN'T LEAVE A REVIEW!  I REPLIED TO EVERY SINGLE REVIEW FOR THOSE LAST COUPLE CHAPTERS, AND IF I MISSED YOU IT WAS BECAUSE YOU WEREN'T THERE!  You can even check in the reviews and see that a review for that chapter was CONSPICUOSLY ABSENT!  So don't go yelling at ME.  All right, I'm done shouting.  Ummm, I would get one of the first three.  I didn't like The Lioness Rampant as much as the first three, and if I were you I'd buy the first one, simply because I'm into the whole order thing, and it is helpful quite often when writing Alanna fics.  But all of them are, really.  So get whatever you like.  Favorite Misty series?  Ummm, I think I'd have to say Arrows of the Queen.  Why?  I have no idea.  I just like the overall plots of all of those better than a lot of the other ones.  I also really like the new Alberich book just out, Exile's Honor.  Alberich is just so cool.  Oh, but you weren't talking exclusively about Valdemar, were you?  Outside of Valdemar, I like the Elemental Mage books, favorite of those three being The Gates of Sleep.  And I also like the Elvenbane books she's doing with Andre Norton.  Those're good.  Enough books suggestions.  You shouldn't've gotten me started, once I do I rarely stop.  Consider yourself lucky I checked myself before I told you the entire contents of my voluminous bookshelves.  Speaking of the volumes of bookshelves, I didn't measure precisely.  I used a dollar bill, which as you should know is exactly six inches long, (amazing the things you learn in kindergarten, isn't it?) and counted how many dollar bills fit side by side on each side of a shelf.  So it was actually a bit of guided estimation.  My margin of error is probably less than an inch.  In case you were wondering.  You probably didn't want that much detail, but that's okay.  Okay, the whole sequel thing is going farther back, for reasons I will explain further when I get down to my general parting author's note, okay?

Neona:  Oh, I was SOOOOOOO tempted to write a fake chapter where Alanna died and didn't get resurrected just for that review, but I considered the chaos that would cause with confused fans who read my notes wrong, and decided to desist.  I know you're disappointed.  What's with depressing books in English class?  Every single book the school requires us to read this year is depressing.  Currently we're reading There Are No Children Here, which is nonfiction about the Chicago projects.  We're just barely a third of the way into the book and already roughly fifteen people have died, and lots of people have been mugged or seriously injured, or something else bad along those lines.  It's all the worse because it really happened.  It's very depressing.  Yes, before dawn.  On an ideal day, I get up at 5:45 AM, but a lot of the time I have something else I have to do first, like finish my math homework or take a shower.  I don't think I've gotten up before 2 AM this year, although last year I got up at 12:30 AM to do my book report, which I hadn't done practically anything on and was due fifth period that day.  I got a 94% on it, too.  But I was really, REALLY tired the rest of the day.

Punkpixie87:  I forgive you, because you're so charmingly chagrined.  (Do you like my little alliteration there?)  Nope, no A/J, and no George in here either.  Sorry.  Ooh, a daemon.  Probably a cat, because I'm very independent and elusive and good at slipping out of things.  Like cats.  You?  I'm glad you enjoyed my Jon-dissing, humourous chapter.  It was very entertaining to write all the fun jibes.  All right, I will email once I get this puppy up, so you have no excuse for not reviewing.  ::pins punkpixie with a stern look::  You don't even have the excuse of being out of town to miss four chapters.

Devilkitti8: Yeah, my schedule's been pretty viciously packed recently.  Sorry for the updating slowness, but school is EVIL and takes away my writing time.

**That's all of them.  Wow.  I'm all tuckered out.  So, anyway.  Lots of you have been asking about the prospective sequel.  I'm not sure what's going on with that anymore.  It was sort of making its way to the front of my brain, but now it's moved back.  See, opal-dragon and I were thinking of collaborating on it, because we thought it'd be fun, but she's had some…problems, so she's not writing right now.  So be extra-nice to her and make her feel better, kay?  Especially if you're already a fan.  So, that project is kind of at a standstill right now.**

**So, now that you are up to date on what's going on, you get to come and REVIEW!  REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!  Review, and maybe I'll write the next chapter faster.  I haven't even started it, so I need LOTS of encouragment.**


	17. Sunrise

**Author's Note:  Okay, guys, don't lynch me, I know this is terribly late and it's been FOREVER since I've updated, and all that, but I can only say I'm sorry.  School's kept me pretty busy, and my enthusiasm for this story has been winding down a bit.  I've actually had this chapter written for a while, but with computer issues (still not completely resolved) and being so busy, I haven't had a chance to post it.  So, it's finally up here.  Read it.**

Chapter 16: Sunrise

A huge, orange sun rose over the horizon, staining the sand a deep, lustrous red, each grain a slightly different hue.  A soft wind, still cool from the chill evening, flirted with the sand and drifted piles into gently rolling dunes.  It was just another part of the ever-changing desert landscape.  Alanna loved it.

She felt uniquely at peace when she was out in the desert.  The harsh, unforgiving landscape didn't care if she was a girl or boy; a princess or the lowliest serf.  Human idiosyncrasies meant nothing to the driving sands, or the chafing wind, or the bright, glaring sun.  There was no need to wear masks in the desert.

Her ebony-dyed hair was whisked gently around by the playful breeze.  Alanna smiled, and clucked to Moonlight to pick up the pace a little.  The mare, made playful by the brisk, beautiful morning, danced around and then broke into a canter with an exuberant neigh.  The prince's black stallion spooked a bit as the mare rushed up from behind him, but soon Darkness too entered into the spirit of things and started a bit of competition.

Jonathan's startled shout followed Alanna as Moonlight raced ahead.  Twisting in the saddle, she laughed as he toppled off of the suddenly galloping Darkness and landed ignominiously on his rear in the sand.  But she had mocked him too soon.

Moonlight twisted and dropped her shoulder, and Alanna joined the prince, sprawling in the sand.  Propping herself up on her hands, she watched as the two horses frolicked in the dawn.

It was a new beginning of the day, and, Alanna thought, maybe a new beginning for her life.  Just as her life had been changed by that fateful day in her room in the convent and the decision to strike out on her own, now it was being changed once more.

For only the second time in four years she was going to talk to her brother.  She would be able to tell him who she was, and catch up on everything she'd missed for four entire years.  She couldn't wait to see him.

And though she loved all her Bazhir friends, she'd always felt a tiny bit apart from everything they went through.  They were independent children of the desert.  She was a product of the far north; she could never wholly be Bazhir.  Her reluctance to become a shaman had probably stemmed from that very feeling of not quite belonging.

But now she was entering into a new chapter of her life.  Everything would be different.  And unlike the last time her life was changed forever, this time everything she did would be the result of her own purposeful decision.  Alanna of Trebond, not at all a noble lady, sometime shaman of the Bazhir, and soon-to-be squire, was going out to take control of her life.

**Okay, well, I hope you're happy with the last chapter of this story.  Personally, I hate it, but you're entitled to your own opinion.  Leave a review, please.  I would really appreciate it.**

**Oh, about the sequel.  Back when I last updated this chapter it was swimming around in my head, but right now it's not resolving itself into an actual plotline.  I'm not sure how that's working out.  It may end up here, it may never show.  As of right now, I couldn't tell ya.  And although I still love all of my wonderful reviewers, I can't deal with the backlog of reviews right now, so I'm not going to reply to anyone.**

**But I'd like you to know that I've read every single one, and I really appreciate all your input.  Okay, big hugs to everyone who's put up with this huge delay, and I'm signing off.**

**~M'cha Araem**

**(or, as Punkpixie87 likes to put it, "Michy")**


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